


Game Seven

by chubbyhawke



Series: DA Modern AUs [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Crush, Background Carver Hawke/Merrill - Freeform, Background Dorian Pavus/Iron Bull - Freeform, Background Isabela/Bethany Hawke, Baseball, Blood and Gore, Car Accidents, Denial of Feelings, Drug Rings, Eventual Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Gang Violence, Idiots in Love, Love at First Sight, M/M, Master/Slave References, Modern AU, Modern Thedas, Nudity, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Past Drug Dealing, Past Fenris/Isabela - Freeform, Past Prison Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, References to Drugs, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Slow Burn, Sports, references of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-11-01 12:05:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 54,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10921461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chubbyhawke/pseuds/chubbyhawke
Summary: Garrett Hawke is one of the most famous dirt dogs in the Major Leagues, known as the Champion of Kirkwall for the Kirkwall Marchers.Fenris is an escaped prisoner, wrongfully jailed for a crime he did not commit. Having changed his name and appearance, he now hides in a tattoo parlor run by a hesitant man named Anso, where his new friends seek to protect him from Danarius, the corrupt police chief who had him jailed and a notorious bounty hunter that rides constantly on his tail.But one late night when Fenris is caught alone and out numbered, a familiar face comes to his rescue.**CHAPTER 6 CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT**





	1. The City Sings

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Caught Looking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3803575) by [draco_illius_noctis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/draco_illius_noctis/pseuds/draco_illius_noctis). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading this and I'm sorry if this ends up being bad or it doesn't make sense. The concept sounded really cool in my head so I outlined a plot and ran with it. This may also become explicit eventually, haven't decided yet. If you liked it leave a comment maybe? I would appreciate it a lot!!!
> 
> EDIT: I drew some headcanons for these characters, feel free to check them out!!  
> http://valroyou.tumblr.com/post/161330868598/some-self-indulgent-doodles-of-the-main-babes-from

_**“** Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly. **”**_  
― Neil Gaiman

 

Fenris never had a particularly easy life. Growing up in the slums, for a start, definitely didn't help. Elves were mistreated and ridiculed as it is, an elf from the inner city even more so. The school he went to was alright, he played baseball until high school. He was such a good pitcher that he got onto a traveling team that played across Thedas. They used to say that he had a dangerous kind of magic in his hands.

In college, he would've made it in the minor leagues. If his life hadn't been snatched right out of his clutches.

Arrested for a crime he didn't commit fresh out of high school, Fenris was thrown into prison for so long that he began to forget what his life had been like before. All he knew were the concrete walls, harassment from other inmates about being an elf, unidentifiable things living in his mattress and biting at his skin while he slept. Then, one day in the recreation room where he'd gone to waste his time playing a game of Wicked Grace with the bull-horned qunari, he found himself watching TV. Normally it wasn't anything special: the cooking channel, paid programming, an occasional kids movie on a really good day. That day, however, some one happened to be watching a baseball game. 

He remembered it like it was yesterday. The Kirkwall Marchers against the Tevinter Magisters. He knew the second name well, Tevinter was where he'd grown up. His whole life he'd been bullied by fans of the Magisters, mostly just other students. It wasn't something that stirred a hatred in him. It wasn't the team, it was the fans. Yet, the man who'd locked him up, Ex-Police Chief from Tevinter and CO at the prison Fenris was in, Danarius- he happened to be a Magisters fan too. 

Danarius leaned against the metal door frame to the recreation room, watching Fenris with a smirk and a quirk to his brow as the elf's attention was turned towards the game. Just seeing the bright gold and red of the Magisters uniforms, that horrible look on Danarius's ugly face, he felt willing to give up all of what little he had just to see the Magisters loose this game. Just to see that smug look smacked off of Danarius's face. The qunari he'd been playing with, Hisraad, even took notice to the shift in the elf's attention, turning in his seat to look at the TV. He laughed aloud, understanding everything now. Hisraad was a people's person. All he had to do was shake your hand and he instantly knew every little thing about you. 

It was the Marchers' turn to bat, bottom of the ninth. The two teams were tied, all the Magisters had to do was keep the Marchers off the diamond and the game would be theirs. Danarius seemed pretty confident, shouting something back to another CO and laughing. The first man up to bat, they called him the Champion of Kirkwall, Garrett Hawke. The pitcher was a man with skin like toffee, his facial hair curling up neatly at the corners of his lips. He was a typical Tevinter boy, some one who grew up with everything handed to him on a silver platter. They called him the Necromancer, because his pitches could make even the most dis-interested of crowds come alive with whoops and cheers. 

Fenris remembered Hisraad making a side comment about the way the pitcher's pants fit his ass, but he wasn't listening. He was watching the batter, Hawke, as he gave a goofy grin to the cameras and a half-hearted wave before stepping onto the mound. He didn't look like a celebrity, but the Marchers fans cheered more for him than they had for any of the other batters previous. He smirked at the pitcher, who returned the expression, cocking a hip as he readied his stance. A curve ball, a strike. Danarius said something about another CO owing him money after this, but Fenris hadn't lost his hope. He clutched the cards in his hand so tightly that they'd begun to bend- eyes never leaving the screen. 

Another curveball, another strike. The Marchers fans were restless now, out of their chairs and shouting down at the field- faces as red as their enemies' jerseys. Hawke didn't even look a little bit frustrated. He had this grin on his face, like he was eating all of this up. This was a game to him, but the pitcher wasn't daunted by it. He was convinced that this would be strike three for the Champion, but Fenris held onto faith. The third pitch, and Danarius has turned his back to leave the room but he stops in his tracks when he hears an ear splitting crack. Hisraad shouts in celebration, throwing his chair to the ground as he stands to pump his fists in the air. The ball flies out of the park and into the stands, Hawke just starts jogging across the bases with this endless smile on his face. Fenris is smiling too, it's the first time he's smiled in a long, long time. 

Danarius shouts something at Hisraad and threatens to have him thrown in the SHU if he doesn't calm down. Hisraad only laughs to himself and picks up his chair, returning to the deck of cards forgotten on the table. Fenris looks back down at the cards as well, but he doesn't bother to hide his joy. In the corner of his eye, he can see Danarius slam the door to the recreation room shut and stomp loudly down the hall. 

That was the first time in decades that Fenris felt inspired. 

Not long after that was Feast Day, and the COs always threw a huge party. The inmates could have visitors come and join all of them out in the yard for the once a year festivity. The whole building was always mostly empty because everyone was in the yard, usually it was locked up, but Hisraad had a plan. 

One of the female COs was sweet on him, and they'd been fooling around for a while behind closed doors. Of course, no one could know about it, but that didn't mean those things wouldn't happen. During the Feast Day activities and games, Hisraad convinced the CO to sneak away with him in the building for a little "alone time" while they had the chance. While guiding her in, he'd somehow freed the COs baton from her belt, and let it drop into the path of the closing door. She was too distracted with Hisraad to notice, but it was the chance that Fenris needed. 

He got in and snuck into the main CO's office, grabbing one of the extra uniforms and putting it on. Hisraad let the CO leave first after their fling, telling her to leave first so that no one would be suspicious, and as soon as she was gone he arrived in the office with Fenris, managing to fit himself into one of the uniforms as well- though it was notably small on him. The bus that brought the visitors in from the city was waiting out front, and the two of them managed to hop on without receiving so much as a second glance from the driver.

"Take us to town," Hisraad had said, effortlessly nonchalant. "The boys need us to get some more soda. Had more company than we expected." 

"Need a ride back?" The driver asks as he starts the bus, putting on his seatbelt. 

"Nah, we'll call a cab," Hisraad assures him smoothly. "Need you back here when they get done with the games and shit anyhow." 

"Sounds good, Officer." 

And just like that, they were free. The bus driver dropped them off in Minrathous, and from there they got new clothes from the shelter on the east side of town. They got tattoos, Fenris bleached his hair and Hisraad got himself into a bar fight- losing one of his eyes. It wasn't on purpose, but it worked to change his appearance. After getting out of Tevinter, Hisraad changed his name to The Iron Bull and they escaped to Kirkwall together without any further trouble. Fenris had chosen his name because it was an elven term for 'little wolf', what Danarius had called him while he was in prison. It was a name he wore with pride, and a name he intended to carve into the front of Danarius's gravestone at the first opportunity. 

In Kirkwall, they caught a man named Anso, who had run the local tattoo shop called Lowtown, smuggling lyrium to drug addicts and dealers. They came to an agreement that Anso would hire Iron Bull and Fenris and look out for them so long as the two of them kept Anso's secret, and watched his back. 

That was three years ago, now. 

Bull only stayed long enough to buy an outlet from the plaza across the street. He and his friend Krem (the reason he lost his eye in the first place) opened up a little gym slash sports store, and called it The Chargers. Fenris learned the art by practicing on himself. Over the years, it came to a point where his entire body was laced in the intricate white tattoos. He liked how it made him look strangely intimidating, and he wished Danarius had seen him like this. He wanted to see that man gape at him in awe and horror as he planted a bullet through his ribs. Oh, how he longed for that day.

He'd become relatively close with a lot of the other workers there, but the only one who knew Fenris's secret was Isabela. She was a scampy girl who was shamelessly herself in every way: so much so that he often wished that she wouldn't be herself. Most of her tattoos were too intimate to see because of her clothing, but she had one of a pin-up pirate girl on her right arm with her ass hanging out of her skirt if that tells you anything. She was a loyal friend to Fenris, though, and didn't judge him for his past. 

There was also Merrill, the only person that Fenris knew who could make a face tattoo look elegant and beautiful. She was sort of the kitten of Lowtown, innocent and always kind to everyone regardless of who they were or what they looked like. She was an artist too, one of the best there aside from Sandal. Sandal was Anso's brother Bodahn's son: and the only thing he seemed to be able to grasp with good conscious was inking, especially free hand work. If things were different, he could have had his own studio. But he was a little slow and tended to get himself into trouble a lot of times, so Bodahn kept him off of the hotseat as often as he could. 

Anders was a skilled artist too, but he was a bit too political for Fenris's preference. Whenever you could get him to talk about something aside from social justice, he was okay. He was the only other person in Lowtown who enjoyed baseball as much as Fenris did and didn't have to fake it. But... he was a Magisters fan. Fenris knew it was silly to let that bother him, but it did. The very thought of it made his skin crawl and he couldn't put it out of his mind. Every time he looked at Anders, he couldn't help but see that little bit of Danarius in him. It wasn't Anders' fault, granted, but that didn't settle his nerves around the man.

He had just finished up with his last client for his shift, a young woman who wanted a black and grey tattoo of a dreamcatcher on her side, just below the armpit. She had him take a picture of it for her before she wrote him a check and skipped out the door. Letting out a tired sigh, he quickly took apart his coil, getting everything ready for sterilization in the autoclave. After that was done, he threw away his gloves and kicked off his shoes, finally reclining in his chair and letting his arm cover his eyes as he laid back. 

The doors swing open almost as soon as he starts to feel relaxed, and he's almost worried that it's a customer before he hears familiar laughter and heeled boots clacking on the slick tiled floor. 

"And then, Fen just stands up and knocks that asshole right out of his seat. Didn't even have to punch him before he scrambled out of the bar like a sissy." Isabela, he could be deaf and still recognize that voice. 

"That must have been so exciting," Merril enthused. "I wish I had been there." 

"No, you don't, kitten," Isabela assured her with a sigh. "A place like that would eat you alive."

Fenris grumbles something under his breathe as he slowly pushed himself up onto his feet. "Clocking out," he said, only just loud enough for them to hear. 

"Good, we came here to get you," Isabela purred. "We're going to the Hanged Man." 

The local pub in Kirkwall, but also a very smelly, over-crowded place that his friends seemed to enjoy dragging him to, for what ever reason. "Must we?" he sounded less than enthused. 

"Yes, we 'must'," Isabela mocked. "Had the bar guy put the big game on, just for you."

Fenris couldn't help but smile a little at that. She had him there, and she knew it. "I suppose it won't hurt," he conceded. "It _has_ been a while." 

Tonight was the Marchers' first game of the season, a home game against the Orlesian Lions. The Lions were a decent enough team, a little too flashy for Fenris's taste. They'd won the World Championship a few years ago, and they've lived in that glory ever since. Fenris wanted tickets for this game, but he never got the chance. He may complain quite a lot about his friends on occasion, but they knew the pathway to his heart. 

 "That's the spirit!" Isabela hooks her arm around his, tugging him out the door. "Bull's gonna meet us there any minute." 

Isabela drove a convertable, which sounds nice until you actually see the thing. The hubcaps don't match, the passenger door has no paint left, just rust, and the back plate light has been out for Maker knows how long. It was their typical drive around vehicle though, considering neither Fenris or Merrill had cars. 

Anders had one, of course, and he usually drove himself to the Hanged Man only to meet them an hour or so after they've already shown up. Merrill didn't need one because she lived with Isabela and they just shared. Bull had this massive truck that he considered his pride and joy. Of course, Fenris wasn't allowed to drive it, but Bull was happy to drive him whereve ever he needed to go. 

On a week night, the Hanged Man was never too crowded. It wasn't a sports bar, so it wouldn't be especially crowded for a game night. And, to Fenris's relief, it wasn't. There were only two or three other cars parked, and Bull's truck was impossible to miss. He was waiting for them out front, chatting with somebody who'd stepped out to smoke a cigarette. He smiled warmly at Fenris, abandoning his new friend and wrapping a meaty arm around the elf's shoulders. 

"Hey there, big guy," he chuckled. He nodded to the girls as they approached, smiling at them as well. "Marigold. Captain Isabela." 

"It's good to see you, the Iron Bull," Merril chimed, as happy as ever. 

"Hey, sweetheart," Isabela grins. She adores it when he calls her that. Fenris is surprised she doesn't ask that everyone else go ahead and call her that too. 

"Can I talk to you when we get inside?" Bull asks, more quietly now. "It's kinda important." 

"Sure," he shrugs the qunari's arm off of him, heading in the front door after everyone else had gone in. Bull follows close behind, ducking a little to get his horns through. 

The man at the bar waved at them, but said nothing as he went back to work. It was a homely little place, he'd admit. There were even couches by the TV, even though those were usually resorted for... other things.

Isabela was right though, he had put the game on. It was just starting, and the Marchers were on the field. The Champion of Kirkwall was playing shortstop, and Sebastian Vael was pitching. Sebastian was a very religious man, claiming the Maker's hand threw every pitch rather than his own. He was good, really good actually, but he had a bit of a bitter attitude that got him in trouble at times. 

Isabela and Merrill were sitting at the bar, Isabela not hesitating to go in face first- Merrill was taking her time, making small talk and ignoring the drink sitting out infront of her. Bull plopped down on the couch, patting the seat next to him. Fenris sat, leaning back, eyes trained on the screen. Gaspard was up to bat, a legend for Orlais. People said he was the cousin of the Empress, but of course that was just a rumor. He sure acted like it, though, and wouldn't let a single soul on this Earth forget that he was the one that carried his team to the World Championships however many years ago that was. 

Bull groaned, his back cracking a little as he shifted in his seat. He wasn't quite as young as he used to be, that's for sure. He's had to wear a tracker on his bicep that recorded his heart rate and blood pressure just in case he worked himself too hard. He'd never admit it, though. He was too proud. 

"Listen, Fen," the qunari sighed. "Heard from some of my contacts, and it's not good." 

Fenris was only half-way paying attention to him, still engrossed in the game. Gaspard had just struck out, and he was cursing up a storm. It sounded hilarious in that accent of his, you just couldn't take him seriously. 

"Fenris," Bull said a bit louder, demanding the elf's attention. "Word is that the 'Vints are coming to Kirkwall. We'll have to lay low this next week or two, and watch our backs." 

"Why?" he asked, looking away from the TV now. "They're always in Kirkwall. 

"Hear they're doing an investigation, wouldn't say what. It was private information. City police don't even know a thing about it," he continued. "You know that asshole of yours has a lot of influence up there. If he found out you were here some how, he could easily pull the strings needed to get some thugs out here after you." 

Fenris grit his teeth. "They can't know that we're here," he insisted. "There's no way they'd have found out." 

"I know," Bull huffed. "but that doesn't mean we should go out with our dicks flopping around." 

"You're right. I'll be careful, Iron Bull, promise." 

"You better," he growled, allowing the attention to return to the television. "Two outs, huh? Let me grab us a pint, that'll make this game even better." He punches the elf playfully on the shoulder.

Bull shouldn't be surprised that Tevinters are in Kirkwall, they're allies with the Free Marches. Tevinter officials are always in and out of this town, they've always had to keep their heads low. Ever since they escaped together, Bull has acted like an over protective father around Fenris. Not that he minded, but Bull could relax every now and then. 

Cheering comes from the television and Fenris can feel his heart swell with joy. "Strike three!" he calls out. 

"Hell yeah!"

 

* * *

 

"Good job out there, Sebastian," he claps the man on the shoulder as they enter the dug out, grinning like a school girl. He always got like that during games, it was Hawke's peppy attitude that kept everyone going when they needed it the most. 

"Thank you, Hawke," he smiled, sitting down beside him.

God, he loved this game. There was nothing in this world he loved more than this game. Except maybe dogs. Dogs are a very, very close second. 

Varric pulled off his catcher's helmet and tossed it onto the bench, grinning at his teammates. "Hawke, Prince," he hummed. "Ready to head out back out there?" 

"As ready as I'll ever be," Hawke laughed. He could see his brother, Carver, come out of the locker room in the corner of his eye. He was an assistant coach of sorts, making sure everything was set up and ready for the next inning. He complained about it constantly, and he would have you convinced that he hated the job, but Hawke new better. Carver would die without this job. 

"You're up to bat, asshole," he huffs, gesturing to the mound. "Don't make 'em wait all day like you always do." 

"You're the best, Carver," he pats Carver on the back and messes up his hair before jogging out to the mound, glad to finally have his trusty bat back in his hands. It was like having a whole new kind of energy rush into him through his palms, it gave him this blast of adrenaline like he'd just shot himself up with something illegal. Who needs lyrium when all he needed was the sound of a crowd screaming for him and this bat.

The first pitch is no good, Hawke just lets the catcher throw it right on back. _'Give me something to swing at,'_ he thought, adjusting his grip and rolling his shoulder, loving the little pop he feels as he does it. _'You Orlesians oughtta be good at this.'_

The second pitch is a fastball, but Hawke is ready. All of the force he has to give goes into that hit and it goes soaring. The umpire declares a homerun, and Hawke just laughs-... no, giggles, as he takes his round of the bases. Oh, tonight was gonna be a good one. 

That game ended up being a good one for the start of the season. The Marchers won four to two, and everyone was in a pretty good mood after that. Varric, Hawke, and Carver had already went their own way. Bethany with them as well. She usually spent the games in Hawke's private box with his dog, Buddy. Sometimes she would bring her friends with her, but most times she enjoyed the privacy.

"So, what now? You don't wanna go home after that, I hope," Bethany enthused. She had clearly enjoyed the game as much as the other boys had by the color in her cheeks. It was a damn good one, for sure. 

"I don't know," Hawke shrugged. "I'm sort of hungry. Why don't we go to Gamlen's new place?"

"You mean his burger joint?" Carver scoffed. 

"He's family. We should at least stop by." 

"He leeches off of us, Hawke," Bethany sighed. "He doesn't deserve anything. Even Varric said so." 

Varric sighed, and that was confirmation enough that the burger joint was a no go. Hawke thought for a moment, looking over the  different restaurants and stores as they passed them. "Can we go to the Dales, then?" 

"Sure," Varric pulls into the turn lane, turning on his blinker. "But let's not walk in there in uniform, alright?" 

The Dales was a fancy oriental restaurant on the west side of town, and it was Hawke's favorite. Varric always kept spare clothes for Hawke in the trunk of his car for situations like these, some for himself as well. Carver just wore his street clothes to the games like Bethany, they knew the easiest way around these sorts of things by now. Hawke was usually able to sneak into the bathroom before anyone spotted him, changing in the handicapped stall whenever it was available to him. He pulled off his uniform, leaving it discarded lazily on the floor as he grabbed his shirt from the plastic bag that Varric had handed him. It was his Hero Of Fereldan T-Shirt, they were his favorite baseball player when he was a kid. Even after all this time, he considered himself their biggest fan. 

"You almost done in there, Hawke?" Varric called out impatiently. He was a lot faster at this than Hawke was, maybe it was because he was a dwarf. Maybe it was easier for them some how. He gathered his uniform up and shoved it in the bag as he buttoned his jeans, not even bothering with the belt for the moment. He nearly fell over himself as he came out of the stall, and Varric chuckled at him, as per usual. "Come on," he said. "Sunshine already got a table for us." 

Bethany had even ordered for Hawke already by the time he sat down, and he could have teared up. She knew him so well. Carver was still deciding, grumbling over a menu as if he hadn't been here a million times before, and Varric just winked at the waitress and asked for his usual. By the time she was gone, Hawke had already felt at home again. This was the baseball season routine: a good game, then good food, and a good night's sleep in his bed with Buddy snoring loudly at his feet. He couldn't want anything else for his life, really. This was perfect. 

"So, Hawke, we're not going through that same thing all over again this year, right?" Bethany prodded, giving her older brother a gentle nudge in the side with her elbow. 

His stomach sank. Of course. Of course she would say that. 

"What do you mean?" he said a bit too defensively. "What was wrong with last year?" 

"Nothing, technically," Varric explained. "but Sunshine's worried about you." 

"Worried about me? What's going on?" 

Bethany rolled her eyes and shook her head, as if it should have been obvious to him. So, Carver spoke for her. "You just turned thirty-one years old, Garrett." 

"Okay? And?" 

"Most people are married with children by now," Varric continues. "That doesn't bother you?" 

"You're older than I am, Varric," Hawke reminded him, his voice cracking a little bit. "Shouldn't you and _Bianca_ have children by now?" 

"Hey, you know I'd marry her in a heart beat if I could," he chuckles. "That's not fair." 

" _None_ of you are being fair," Hawke sighed. "Just because I haven't popped out a child yet doesn't mean that there's something wrong with me." 

"No one is telling you to do _that_ , Garrett," the dwarf laughs harder. "You're taking this all wrong." 

"We're just saying that you should go on dates every once and a while," Bethany says soothingly, running a hand down his arm. "At least once in a blue moon. You won't even do that. Ever since mom-" 

"I don't want to talk about mom," Hawke huffed, his hands curling into fists. "She hasn't got to do with any of it." 

They all fell silent for several long moments, the twins exchanging looks with Varric and then turning toward Hawke who looked close to snapping. The waitress arrived with their food, but as soon as she set it down Varric shooed her off. He scooted closer to his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. "Hey, listen, Hawke," he murmurs. "We're just looking out for you. That's all." 

He felt himself relax a little bit, though his fists were still clenched tight. "I just," he huffs and sits back finally, winding his fingers through his hair. "It's hard. It's hard to think about that after... after-" 

"We know," Bethany cooed, wrapping her arms around her brother's shoulders. "You took it harder than any of us did.You played a good game today, Garrett. She would have been proud of you if she saw you out there."

"No she wouldn't be, Bethany," Carver scoffs. "You know that's a lie."

Garrett is reduced to complete silence, only shaking his head and shrugging his sister off of him. He pays no attention to his food as he rises to his feet, gaze locked downward. "I'm not really hungry, I think." 

Varric sighs and pulls his keys out of his pocket. "Here, let me drive you home Hawke." 

"No, I'll just walk." Hawke pushed his chair in gently, but his tone was firm, frustrated.

"You live all the way in Hightown, Hawke-" 

"I'll. Walk." He turns towards Bethany, his expression softening a little bit. "I-... I know what you meant, Bethany. And I'll think about it, okay? I'm not promising anything else." 

Hawke pulls some bills out of his wallet and lays them down beside his untouched plate, before turning and heading out of the restaurant. He doesn't even bother to stop and get his baseball stuff out of Varric's car. He just heads blindly down the street, taking a left turn even though he knows that his neighborhood, his home, and his dog is too the right. 

 

* * *

 

 By the time the game came to an end and the Marchers came out on top, Iron Bull was shit-face drunk. Fenris never let himself get to a point where he couldn't think before acting, but Bull didn't seem to care at all. He'd picked Merrill up in his arms at this point, carrying her around and pretending that she was flying. Thankfully they were the only ones in the bar at this point, or the man at the counter would have probably thrown them out. Isabela chuckled at them, looking back at Fenris who sat across the table from her. She was trying to convince him to play five-finger-fillet with her, but he refused and the bar tender repeatedly said he'd throw them both out if they even tried. 

Merrill was cackling and begging Bull to let her down, so eventually he did, collapsing in one of the stools and gasping for breathe- his grin is never ending. Fenris couldn't say he wasn't amused by Bull in this state, but he also knew what Bull's doctor told him. There was a soft beeping coming from under Bull's shirt, and he tensed, looking down at his arm and rolling up the sleeve. His expression was evidence enough, and Fenris stood up. "I'll get your pills," Fenris assures him. "Stay there." 

"What pills?" Merrill looks between the two of them. "Are you alright, the Iron Bull?" 

"I'm fine," Bull grumbles. "Big guy doesn't know what he's talking about." 

Fenris only rolls his eyes and makes his way out the door, grabbing the keys to Bull's truck from the counter. That was his typical response, but Fenris wasn't about to dance around the subject for the qunari's sake. He had no shame in hiding, at least in that sense. If there was any way he could confront Danarius and end this threat to his life for good, he would. But he knew that he wouldn't get away with that. Bull had talked him down from that stance a long time ago. It would be a stupid and arrogant thing to do. He wasn't about to throw his life away so carelessly. 

The parking lot was dark and the street lights did little to help that. He pushed the unlock button on the fob and watched as the headlights came to life. He remembered when Bull first got this truck and it wasn't anything but a shell of metal and tires. She didn't even have an engine. Now, she was... definitely something to behold. Bull said that she was like a dragon, but Fenris wouldn't go that far. He opened the driver side door and pulled himself up. The interior lights came on as soon as he did so, and it wasn't hard to find Bull's prescription. It was tucked in the very back of the glove-box, of course, forgotten up until now. He reached out to grab it, but before he could- something snagged a hold of his ankle and yanked him out of the truck and onto the ground.

 His face slammed off of the asphalt, he felt his nose shift out of place but was too stunned by what had happened to feel the pain. He tried to push himself up, but a boot slammed down between his shoulder blades, pinning him in place like he were merely an insect. "I knew I'd find you here," a sickeningly deep voice croaks. Not a real voice, he can tell. Who ever it is, they're wearing a filter so that Fenris won't recognize them. Danarius would not do something so cowardly. Who was this? 

"Get... off," he manages, trying to push up but another foot is planted on top of him- squishing him back down. 

"Little wolf," the voice hummed, clicking their tongue as if in disapproval. "How did you make it hiding in the same place for 3 years? That's not a smart thing to do, you know." 

"I'm not who you think I am," he growls. "This... is a mistake." 

"Of course," the voice purred. Several hands snatch Fenris up and slam him up against the side of the truck, his head bouncing back against the metal causing him to groan. It was too dark to see clearly, but there were at least four or five people around him. The source of the voice, Fenris can now see that they're wearing a mask. They pull a small flashlight from their coat pocket and flash it in Fenris's face, holding his eye open to examine it as though he were just an escaped animal. "Yep, this is the elf. Get the cuffs." 

"I didn't-" 

A knee to the stomach, hands knocking his face off of his attacker's shin before tossing him back onto the ground again. He can taste the blood from his nose now. It's been a while since he was in a fight like this, and that was in prison. And now, he was extremely outnumbered. Could they not hear what was going on out here? Was Iron Bull's drunken rambling just too loud? Wouldn't they have taken notice to the fact that Fenris had been gone so long? 

"I'm dragging your ass back to Danarius if it's the last thing I do," the voice snarled. "and by the Maker's honor, I swear you'll never leave Tevinter again." 

"Hey!" A deep voice resonates from somewhere in the parking lot, and Fenris can hear someone running towards them. The person holding him on the ground is suddenly knocked off of their feet. Fenris doesn't hesitate to scramble onto his feet, reeling back and punching one of his assailants in the face. He couldn't see who his rescuer was, and at the moment he didn't care. A second one tried to snatch him by the arm, but Fenris grabbed the side of his face and slammed it up against the side of Bull's truck. They'd already dented it when they assaulted him, there was no use trying to keep from denting it now. 

"You're interfering with official Tevinter business," the person in the mask manages to get out, trying to break free from the hold of the man above him but not being able to. "You have no right to-" 

" _You_ have no right to be in Kirkwall," the man snarls. "My best friend is the chief of police in this town. I'm sure she wouldn't be very happy to see some Tevinter sleeze ball snooping around her city, beating up her citizens." 

"We don't have a warrant to be here, boss," one of the attackers whimpers as he pulls himself from off of the ground, clutching his jaw. "If we're thrown in jail, there's no money in it for any of us." 

There is a long silence for several long moments, and their leader finally gives a defeated sigh. At this, the man who came to Fenris's rescue releases him giving him a shove in the opposite direction. "Get out of Kirkwall," he demands. "If I see or hear about you ever again, you'll regret it." 

The masked face turns to look toward Fenris, gaze lingering there for a moment before turning away. They leave just as quickly as they'd come, climbing into a car parked just a little ways down the street, waiting for them. All Fenris could feel was red hot rage pulsing through every vein in his body. He wanted to get in Bull's truck and follow them, follow them and make sure they didn't make it back to Tevinter alive. Danarius put them up to this, he knew it. Only Danarius would do something so foolish, so bold. He made a loud, frustrated noise and slammed the door to Bull's truck. He'd almost completely forgotten that he wasn't alone. 

 

* * *

 

Maker, he hated Tevinters. He disliked them before, rather extremely in fact. He never thought that they could or would do anything else to heighten that hatred to new levels. But this, oh Maker this did. Just walking around the city, killing time so he wouldn't have to go home, and what does he find. Aveline was going to hear about this for sure. He wouldn't let those assholes get away with this. He was snatched from his own spiteful thoughts when the elf he'd saved slammed the door to the truck he'd been assaulted on. He looked a bit small for such a vehicle, but he didn't bother question it. "Hey," he says, trying to keep his tone soft. "Are you alright?" 

The elf looks at him bewildered, as if he didn't realize that Hawke was still standing there. His expression quickly returns to anger as he stomps past Hawke. It's dark, but Hawke can tell that he's shaking pretty hard. And those-... those tattoos.. His breathe catches in his throat. 

"No, I'm not," the elf snaps, now beginning to pace. "I can't believe they.. they-" 

"I know," Hawke shook his head. "Tevinters. I'm glad I saw you when I did, that could have been ugly." 

"It wasn't very pretty either way," the other huffed. 

Hawke laughed at that, his smile twinkling in the faint light.  "I-... What- uh.. What's your name?" he managed. 

"My name is Fenris," the elf, Fenris, shyly returns the smile, wiping blood off of his mouth with the back of his hand and Hawke felt his knees buckle. If it weren't for the truck right there, he could have collapsed. "You?" 

"I-" he cleared his throat, trying to gather himself back into one piece again. "I-I'm Hawke, uh, Garrett Hawke." 

Fenris's eyes widened. "Garret Haw-?" 

"Fen! What's taking you so long out here? Isabela-" Hawke turns to see a very obviously drunk qunari stumbling out of the bar, who straightens himself as he takes in the sight before him, and his expression darkens: gaze locking in Hawke. Before Hawke can move, the qunari has him by the collar of his shirt, lifting his feet off of the ground with ease. "What kind of _nerve_ -" 

"Bull," Fenris spoke up, a hand still covering his bleeding nose. "Put him down." 

"This asshole just beat you up and you want me to-"

"It wasn't him, Bull. Put him down." 

Reluctantly, the qunari obeyed. His gaze lingered on Hawke for a moment then Fenris, but finally he released the human's shirt collar and stepped back to let him adjust himself. 

"Isabela is holding Merrill's hair out of her face while she pukes," the qunari, Bull, sighed. "Now, can you tell me what in Andraste's ass happened out here?"

"I was looking for that prescription, and thugs tried to mug me," Fenris gestures to Hawke with his free hand. "He... Hawke, dealt with them. It's no longer a problem." 

"Hawke?" Bull paused over the name as well, and Hawke could only force his signature, awkward grin. "Champion of Kirkwall, Hawke?" 

"Yeah, that's me," he laughed. "Just Hawke is fine, though, I promise." 

"Well, thank you for coming by when you did," Bull laughs. "I guess I was so drunk that I didn't realize he was out here so long."

"Me too," Hawke said a little too enthusiastically, thankful for the darkness that hid the color rising in his cheeks.

"I'm sorry about the truck," Fenris sighs, gesturing to the dents that were created in the rummage. The "Bull" character only shrugs, not upset in the slightest.

"She knows it wasn't your fault." 

"You know that you can't drive home now," Fenris warned. "Not like that." 

"You drive then," Bull huffs. "Ain't got much choice." 

Fenris looks at Hawke as he clutches the keys, hesitant to follow his qunari friend as he rounds the vehicle to climb into the passenger. "You may have saved my life, stranger," he murmurs with a small smile. "I have little to offer some one of your... stature. I thank you. Truly. For arriving when you did." 

"Helper is my middle name," he tries to sound clever, but only sounds ridiculous. Fenris must think the same thing because Hawke can hear him chuckling under his breathe. His nose was still bleeding pretty badly, but it was starting to slow down a little. He was able to talk without opening another fountain. 

The elf held out a hand to Hawke, who hesitantly took it- trying not to make note of the tattoos on his fingers or let his mind wonder where else those tattoos may go. 

"Goodnight, Garrett Helper Hawke," Fenris hummed. Was that a joke? Or was he being flirtacious? It all happened so fast that he couldn't tell. His head was nearly spinning. "It was a pleasure meeting you, though I wish it had been under different circumstances." 

"Do you.. Do you want me to sign something?" Oh now he did it. Now he sounded like an ass. 

Fenris narrowed his eyes as though he were considering the offer, but shook his head. "No, I will take advantage of your kindness no longer," he opens the driver side door to the truck and climbs in with the grace of a stag- despite everything he'd just went through not even twenty minutes before. "Thank you."

And with that, they were gone. Hawke was alone again. Suddenly, he'd never felt such a strong urge to pull out his phone to call Varric and tell him everything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I love the headcanon where modern au Iron Bull has back and heart problems and is in extreme denial of it because he feels like that makes him sound weak or old. 
> 
> Hawke suffers from some PTSD if you can't really tell, and all the siblings have gone through trauma because momma Leandra was quite, quite abusive: especially after Malcolm died. 
> 
> Also, if you're not following the Danarius thing: all I can say is that Tevinter's government in this world is very fucked up, and Danarius has connections that allow him to go where ever he wants and do what ever he wants to do to get under Fenris's skin. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! Please leave a comment I'd love you forever if you did ; v ;


	2. You Might Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing as fast as possible, but Lord only knows how fast I'll be updating this. I'm gonna try though. That's what matters, right? Also adding more tags for this chapter because we get into a little more of Fenris's past, including a tag for minor nudity. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

_**“** The more I see, the less I know for sure. **”**_  
― John Lennon

 

Aveline was probably the closest thing that Hawke had to a real mother now a days. Even though baseball season kept them apart most of the time, each time they talked it was like they'd never spent any time apart at all. She was tough, and unwavering in her judgement. By far the best cop that Hawke had ever had the pleasure to know. 

Hawke didn't even bother with the front desk. He went straight to Aveline's office, knocking rapidly on the door. "Guard Captain?" he called out playfully. "A man with a very large sword is here to see you." 

The groan from the other side of the door is enough to make him laugh. Aveline answers the door, lazily gesturing for him to come in. "Don't ever say that again," she sighed. "I don't even know where Varric even came up with that garbage. It's embarrassing." 

"Don't blame a writer for what his reader wants to hear," Hawke said in his best Varric voice, which still wasn't good. When the dwarf wasn't catching, he was known to write books. One in particular had Aveline as it's protagonist, and she loathed every minute of it. The fact that it was a smutty romance novel really didn't help the situation, either. 

"What do you need, Hawke?" she asked as she returned to her desk, crossing her legs and setting down the manila folder she'd been going through when he walked in. He'd known Aveline long before he even started playing for the major leagues. She was a local traffic cop in Lothering, where Hawke had grown up. He was also playing on the minors in a city near by, Ostagar. When his father died and he was invited onto the major leagues in Kirkwall, Aveline was, coincidentally, offered a job as the city-state Chief of Police. She was probably hoping that she'd be rid of Hawke if she took that job, but it's been almost five years since then and she hasn't yet complained. 

 He sat down on the edge of the desk, like he always did, looking around the office. Nothing personal what so ever except for the picture of her husband, Donnic, beside the computer. He remembered helping those two get together, and witnessing Aveline's horrible romantic skills. "Did you know there are _Tevinters_ in Kirkwall?" 

"There have always been Tevinters in Kirkwall," she sighed. "Tevinters are everywhere, Hawke. What's your point?" 

"What about the scary ones?" Hawke continues. "The ones who wear the masks and make money by scaring the shit out of people so that they either go back to Tevinter or keep their mouth shut about what they saw there?" 

Aveline's interest is piked at this, and she actually looks Hawke in the eyes. "Slavers? Or the Venatori?" 

"I don't know. It was too dark to tell."

She leans forward, chair creaking with the shift of weight as one of her meaty hands grabs Hawke by the forearm- clutching with surprising strength. "Hawke," she warned. "What happened?" 

He told her the whole story, skipping around the parts with the dinner and his conversation with Bethany, instead he focused more on the details about how he'd heard talking coming from a parking lot and found those masked thugs beating up an elf. He told her that they ran off because they knew that they'd get in trouble with the law for being in the Marches, and he made sure the elf was good to go home. Aveline thought about this for a moment, her lips pressed in a tight line. 

"Tevinter is a lawless place, cultists like that run the streets," she sighed. "If some one is on their good side, they can quite literally get away with anything. They could control the entire country if they wanted. In reverse, they stop at nothing to find the people that have 'wronged' them. You may have gotten yourself into a big mess of trouble, Hawke." 

"What was I supposed to do? Keep my head down? Walk away?" 

"You should have called me," she insisted. "Regardless, I suppose I should congratulate you for acting bravely, even though you could have been killed." 

"Have you seen any of those cultists in the city? What are they doing here? "

"No, there have been no reports," she said. "But Tevinter isn't known for it's kindness to elves. Perhaps it was just a group of thugs out to leave a warning, and nothing more. Even so, I'll have my officers investigate it." 

"Do you know the name?" Hawke prodded. "Fenris?" 

"Not personally, but I've heard of him," she replied. "I'm pretty sure he works at Lowtown, that tattoo shop on the west side. Donnic had a sister go there once, only mentioned it in passing." 

He nodded, satisfied enough to hop off the desk and stretch out his arms. "Thanks, Aveline," he grins. "I can always count on you." 

The police chief narrows her eyes at him. "Are you going to see him?" 

"Just to check up, I guess. See how he's doing." 

"Should I be concerned?" 

"I know you'll have somebody in a squad car parked out front keeping an eye on me anyways," he teased. "but no. You shouldn't be concerned." 

"Alright, I'll leave you to it, then," she returns to her manila folder, grabbing her glasses from the case and perching them gently on her nose. "Oh, and Hawke?" 

"Yes?" 

"Your sister means well," she gives him a knowing look. Of course Bethany already told her everything that happened at The Dales. He shouldn't have suspected anything less. "She only wants to help." 

"Right. Leaving now." 

"Watch yourself, Hawke," she sighs. "I'm here if you need me." 

 

* * *

 

 "So, let me get this straight. You met Garrett Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, and not only did you keep from soiling your panties at the very sight of him, but you refused to let him at least _sign_ something for you? Are you brain dead?"

"I'm capable of restraint," Fenris laughed as he began to put his coil together for his shift. All the parts had just finished being sanitized, and shop would open any minute. He didn't have any appointments today, but walk-in clients were the most common standard for Lowtown. "Unlike some."

"Oh, fuck you!" Isabela huffed. "I have taste. I don't invite every sweet talking slackjaw onto my ship." 

"Ah, only most of them." 

"You're just jealous of the attention. I know! I could share if you want, some people really enjoy that 'tortured' look." 

"You know, a few dozen men in my trousers _might_ just make things better." 

"See, that's me. I'm a helper." 

"I don't even want to know," Anders shook his head at them as he came in from the back, the parts of his coil freshly sanitized as well. He sat down at his station just beside Fenris's, taking one of his gloves off to grab the remote for the shop TV. They always kept it on during working hours, sometimes it helped the clients to watch so that they wouldn't think about the pain as much. To no one's surprise, he'd put on Judge Judy. "I did hear something about you meeting... the Champion of Kirkwall? Did I hear that right?" 

"Yes, yes," Fenris waved a hand in dismissal. "He happened to be passing by as I was being mugged. It's nothing to squeal about." 

"You were _mugged?_ " Anders gaped. "You make it sound like it was nothing." 

"They nearly bent my nose at a ninety degree angle, if that's more satisfactory," he huffed. There was a bandage over the bridge from when he'd gone to prompt care. They put it back in place, but that didn't mean he wouldn't scar. Anso tried to talk him into staying home today, but Fenris would hear none of it. A bloody nose was nothing, he would be fine. "Bull's truck took more damage than I did, I'm afraid." 

"And Garrett Hawke just happened to the man that came to your rescue?" Anders raised an eyebrow.

"It wasn't like that," Fenris insisted. "He was just... a person. It didn't truly hit me that he was Garrett Hawke until he asked if I wanted him to sign something." 

"And he says _no,_ " Isabela interjected. "I still can't wrap my head around that."

"Oh, I think that Fenris was only trying to be polite," Merrill finally speaks up. "Maybe not all celebrities always want to be treated like celebrities." 

With that, the bell above the door to the shop rang. Anso was at the front desk today, and he offered his typical shy smile and awkward wave. "H-Hello! Welcome to Lowtown. Do you have an appointment with us today? I can look for your name in my books, if you do." 

Fenris continued to finish prepping his station, he normally didn't pay a mind to customers walking in the door. At this point he was in his own little world, drawn out only when a client sat down in his chair and told him what they wanted him to do. Instead, a familiar voice pulled him out of his own head. 

"No, no, I.. I just uh-" Fenris looks up, hardly able to believe his eyes when he sees Garrett Hawke standing at the front desk. It's so surreal seeing him out of that baseball uniform, but it's not a bad thing. The t-shirt he's wearing shows off the musculature of his arms and his jeans seem to hug him in all of the right places. He smiles with just as much awkwardness back at Anso- and it makes the whole experience even more dream like. He knew this was the Garrett Hawke but... it wasn't the man he'd seen on TV. It was like he was a tangible thing, a real human being- not just a face or an idea. Hawke clears his throat through the smile he's forcing. "I'm looking for some one named... Fenris? I heard that I might, maybe find him here?" 

Anso looked wearily over to the elf, gesturing for him to come over. "Uh, Fenris? You're needed up front." 

He nods, removing his gloves and tossing them in the waste bin as he rises from his stool. There is hammering in his chest that he can't ignore as he nears the front desk. He criticizes himself for it but, this _is_ a celebrity, and his favorite batter for the Marchers no less. But of course he has to have this blasted bandage over his nose, he probably looked foolish, or weak at worst. Except, Garrett's eyes seem to light up a little bit as he takes in the sight of the elf. Fenris notices that they're amber, like honey but thicker almost, richer. 

"Hello again," Hawke stammered. "I- uh... I just wanted to see how you were holding up."

He could see Isabela freaking out in the corner of his eye, reaching over to grab Anders by the arm to make him watch as well. Decidedly, he ignored it, focusing his gaze on Hawke's. As if that were  _difficult,_ by any means. "I'll be fine, thank you," he said. "and this should be gone in a matter of days." He gestures to the bandage over the bridge of his nose. 

"Is it bad?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice. 

"I-.." Fenris was taken aback. "No, i-it was minor. No surgery needed. I count myself lucky." 

"Good! I mean- uh, that's good. I'm glad," he feigns another cough, cheeks slowly starting to bloom with color. "Listen, I'm sorry for asking you if you wanted my autograph. I sounded like a huge asshole. I just... don't think before I talk sometimes, you know?" 

"There's no need," the elf assured him. "You were trying to help. I could see that." 

"Yeah, I just.. it was dumb. I'm sorry," he fumbles over his words for a moment. "I brought you this, uh- to make it up to you." He digs through his wallet for a moment, then pulls out an envelope that has been haphazardly sealed. "It's my last home game for a while tonight and those are some tickets for my box. There's also some gift cards, I-... I didn't really know what you liked so I got a bunch of them." He forces a laugh to try to sound casual, but it only vocalizes the nervousness that he feels. 

Fenris is in awe, he looks from the envelope to Hawke- unsure what to say or even _think_. Instinctively, he pushes it back towards the man, shaking his head. "No, I can't," he said. "I can't accept this. It's unnecessary." He could feel the many different plastic cards through the paper and just at that he could have fainted. Why was he doing this for him? He didn't deserve this. He never deserved this. 

"Well, even if you don't go to the game or use the giftcards or whatever-" Hawke looks sadly down at the envelope, gently pushing it back toward the elf. "At least... keep it. Please. It would mean a lot to me." 

 _'Why?'_   he wanted so desperately to ask. _'Why all of this? Why for me?'_

"Or-" Hawke interrupted himself, trying to piece the sentences together in his head. "after the game... let- let me pick you up and I can buy you dinner. Wherever you want to go." 

Now it was Fenris's turn to blush. "You haven't upset me," he reminds him. "There's no need for any of this, truly." 

"Then, don't look at it as an apology just..." Hawke bites his lip. "Look at it as me asking you out on a date." 

"You can go to the game, bring your friends, and ride with me afterwards," he continues. "We can go get dinner, get to know each other a little bit better and then I take you home. If I... If I let you go without at least buying you dinner knowing that I may, potentially, never see you again... I'd never stop beating myself up over it." 

"I-If you want that, of course," he forced another chuckle. "I mean I probably sound like a huge creep, right about now." 

"I-" Fenris opens his mouth to say something else- but everything just seemed to be happening too quickly for him to process it. "You... You don't. I think I would like that, very much, actually." He licks his lips, looking between Hawke and the envelope again. "On one condition." 

"Yeah?" Hawke's interest is peaked now, and he has the expression of a child celebrating their very first Feast Day. 

"I'll allow you to buy food for me if you insist but... keep the gift cards. Please. You're far too generous." 

"Deal," Hawke nearly cheers with relief, opening the envelope to remove the tickets and hold them out to Fenris. "Let me give you my number, so if anything comes up you can just let me know." He grabs the pen from beside the appointment book and begins to jot on the back of the envelope. He shoves that in Fenris's hands as well, his grin is just as goofy as it always is. "Thank you for this, Fenris. You won't regret it." 

"No, thank _you,_ " Fenris smiles. "I suppose I shall see you at the game?" 

"Yeah," Garrett replies thoughtlessly, his brain too busy stirring with excitement over what had just happened. Then, suddenly, he realizes what time it is, looking from the clock on the wall behind the front desk to the watch on his wrist. "Shit, I have to get to the field. Cullen will kill me if I show up late to warm-ups again," he turns toward the door, stopping as he opens it half-way. "Later, Fenris." 

"Garrett," he nods, hardly able to say much more than that without feeling like he would collapse onto the ground. Isabela and Merril were on him instantly, pulling him away from the front desk to the back to get all of the details out of him. He only sat silently as they prodded him, still in shock himself from everything he'd just experienced in the past ten minutes. 

"Fenris, what did he say? What did he give you? Was he flirting with you just then?" Merrill prodded. 

"You can't keep mum forever, Fen," Isabela huffed. "You're gonna tell me or else I'll force it out of you." 

"We're going on a date," Fenris said as though he could hardly believe it himself. "After the game tonight. He gave me tickets for his box." 

"Well, I hope you're not planning on wearing that," Isabela laughed. "This is your every fantasy come true. I'm not gonna let you fuck it up for yourself." 

"Oh, what would I do without Isabela guiding me through every step of life?" Fenris replied with a warm, sarcastic tone. 

"You'd make a fool of yourself, that's what," she said proudly. "Now come on, you have to get back to your shift, pretty boy." 

 

* * *

 

Thankfully, Garrett was able to arrive at the field on time- if three minutes late counted as on time. God, Cullen was going to have his hide. And if not him, then Meredith for sure. Meredith was the owner of the Kirkwall Marchers, and Cullen was just the coach. There was also Orsino, the team manager, but he and Meredith clashed like cold fronts. He practically sprinted through the building and into the locker-room, changing as fast as he could in a desperate attempt to catch up with the others. It was too late, Cullen already appeared in the door way; clipboard tucked in the pit of his firmly crossed arms. 

"Hawke." It wasn't a greeting. It was a demand for an explanation. 

"Coach Cullen, I-" 

"Curly, let me talk to him," Varric appeared beside him, patting him on the back- which ended up being the small of his back due to Varric's height. "I've got this." 

Cullen looked between them for a moment, but caved- returning to the dugout with the other players. Varric sat down on one of the benches across from Hawke as he shuffled through his things, trying not to meet the dwarf's prying gaze.

"Hawke," Varric said in a much more gentle tone than what Cullen had used. "It's the second game of the season and you're already showing up late. That's not good." 

"I know," Garrett sighed. "I'm not gonna make a habit of it. At least, I'll try." 

"You're damn good, Hawke, but you know Meredith doesn't give a shit about fan base," Varric continued. "She'll throw you off the team for looking at her the wrong way, and there goes your entire career. You might even have to hope that you get an offer from the Magisters at that point." 

"Never," Hawke shook his head. "Just got caught up, that's all. It won't happen again, honest." 

"Where were you last night?" Varric leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You can't pass me for an idiot. I know those sores on your knuckles aren't from putting in extra practice time at home." 

"Can we just tell Cullen that for now?" 

"Hawke." 

"Alright, this guy was getting mugged by some Tevinters in freaky masks, and... I beat them up and told them I'd sick Aveline on them if I ever saw them again."

"Tevinters? Sheesh. That's... a little unnerving." 

"I know. And don't tell Bethany, but I might have a... thing, tonight. I can't go with you guys to Hightown for that party. Can you make up a good excuse for me?" 

"You're very transparent, Hawke, but I can try. It's not my fault, though, if she calls me out on it," Varric shrugged, getting his glove and helmet from under the bench he sat on. "What's this 'thing'?" 

"A date? Maybe?" Garrett blushed. "I gave him tickets for my box too since Beth wasn't using it today. We're leaving right after the game." 

"Hawke, now this wouldn't be the same guy you saved from violent Tevinter savages, now would it?" he feigned shock.

 "I-... Shut up. Maybe," Hawke grabbed his bat headed towards the entrance to the dugout. "Keep your mouth shut, though, okay?" 

"What? Who? Me? Hawke, I would _never._ " 

"Varric..." 

"You have my word, Champion," the dwarf put a hand over his heart, smirking before pulling his helmet on. "but I told you so." 

"Not yet," Hawke sighed. "It's just one date." 

"It's still something. That's what matters." 

"Whatever." 

 

* * *

 

Hawke had given Fenris just enough tickets to bring Iron Bull, Isabela, Merrill, and even Anders to the game. The Marchers were playing the Antivan Crows, another very flashy team but not nearly as flashy as Tevinter. They were also more well loved, and their fans were said to be some of the most dedicated and passionate fans of all the sports fans out there. By Isabela's demand, Fenris wore a black button up that really complimented his skin tone as well as the white of his hair and tattoos, and the only pair of jeans he had without holes in them. Normally he dressed for comfort before appearance, but he did enjoy how he looked in this- ignoring the massive bandage over his nose. Maker, he was going to make a fool of himself wasn't he? 

Even as they arrived at the stadium, he had a hard time coming to terms with it. They were sitting in Hawke's private box as the announcer went through the starting line ups and Fenris was in a complete daze. Anders must have taken notice, because he moved to take the seat beside Fenris so that he could put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked, trying to meet the elf's eyes. 

"Why wouldn't he be? Look at this place! This is amazing!" Isabela laughed, still looking around, taking as many selfies as she could to show the world that yes, she was in GARRET HAWKE's private box. "He must really dig you if he was willing to do _this_." 

"He asked me out on a date," Fenris said, more to himself than to Anders. "Me. Why?" 

Iron Bull chuckled from the other couch, setting his beer on the ground and releasing a hearty belch. "Come on, big guy. He likes you. It's that simple." 

"The idea of me," Fenris corrected him. "He doesn't know who I am." 

"Quit thinking about it so much," Bull sighed. "You know, Anders dated a ball player for a while. He can give you some solid advice." 

Fenris looked at the blond man beside him in shock. "You... have?" 

Anders nodded, though the topic seemed to stir something inside him. "Karl Thekla, he was in the minor leagues in Fereldan." 

"See? There you go. It's all gonna be alright, big guy. Relax." 

Fenris had to admit, that did make him feel a little better. He was tempted to ask, but Anders clearly didn't want to talk much about it, so he left the topic alone. The game started with the Crows up to bat, and Marchers in the field. Shaemus Dumar was pitching, the infamous son of the Viscount of Kirkwall. It had been a long time since Fenris had actually been to a game. It was an experience that he couldn't compare to anything else: he'd live his life at these games if he could. Merrill seemed to be enjoying it too, and this was her very first one. He wondered if, perhaps, this date escalated into anything, he could come to these sorts of things more often.But that would be taking advantage of him, right? 

Why was he even thinking about this anyways? He likely just felt bad about the autograph thing still and was doing this to clean his conscious. He wasn't making a very good attempt at hiding that when he came to Lowtown. He was upfront about how he felt and where his guilt lay. There was nothing wrong with just going on one date, especially considering the fact that it was a date with Garrett Hawke.

He never let anyone too close to him anyways. He remembered when he started at Lowtown, and how long Isabela had tried and tried before eventually giving up. 

He was flattered by her approach, of course. There were times when he was tempted, but he never quite let her in. It would be a lie to say that he didn't have feelings for her at one point in time. Every time he got close to being at utmost intimacy with her, he'd back out, apologizing profusely and excusing himself. Isabela was always patient, she sat and talked to him- never doing anything that he wasn't okay with. That was when he told her the truth, about Danarius, about where he and Bull had come from, about everything. 

"We ought to kill him," she'd said, her cheeks hot with rage as Fenris had finished his story. "Find a good place to hide a body, and kill him." 

"I agree with you," Fenris had huffed. They were both absent of most of their clothing, but were completely comfortable in each other's presence that way. It wasn't her body that pushed him away, nor was it the idea of her seeing his own. He could never quite put a finger on the fear that drove him away from that level of intimacy- it wasn't as though he lacked the desire- he just... he didn't know. At times, it made him feel silly. It made him feel broken. "but Bull has shown me that there are positive ways to view it. 

"Yeah?" she laid back and the glow of the streetlights piercing through the curtains lit up the piercings on her nipples and belly like they were stars. 

"If none of that had ever happened to me, I would not have made the friends that I have," he hummed, laying down beside her and folding his arms behind his head. He remembered the musky smell of her perfume and how it clouded the room they were in whenever they got together. He never minded it, but could never fail to notice it. "I would not be myself. Though that's hard to say. I feel so much... _hatred._ " 

"You don't let that hate shut you down," she said, staring blankly up toward the ceiling. "Use it like fuel. Use it as a reason to keep going." 

"Where's Isabela?"

She laughed and gave him a playful shove, teeth twinkling behind her grin. "You're not the only one who's been through shit, you know," she rolled her eyes. "I was married, once." 

Fenris sat up at that, looking at his human friend as though she'd just confessed to being a fairy. "Isabela? _Married?_ " 

"Sounds insane, doesn't it? He served in the Navy for Rivain. I loved him more than I've ever loved anyone," she said. "Then... that asshole- I told him not to leave, but he did anyways. He had to play the hero. He had to be the martyr when he knew how I-..." she bit her lip, taking a moment to get a deep breathe. "I hated him for leaving. I hated the navy for taking him from me. I hated him for dying. Sometimes, I still want to pull that man out of his grave just to knock a couple of his teeth lose for that." 

"I'm... sorry. That must have been difficult." 

"Having as much sex as I could just to spite him really helped," she chuckled. "And thank you for your sympathy, but you're making me feel all squishy. So stop." 

"As you wish." 

The game went by faster than he would have liked, but he had to admit that he had a really good time. The Marchers won, of course, but it was a close one. He wouldn't have been disappointed if they lost, the Crows had proved to be really good. He was even more proud now that they'd won, though. But as people began to clear the stands, he found his nerves slowly starting to creep back to him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. He'd already saved Hawke's number, he'd done that as soon as he got it, but he felt hesitant to send a text. What was he to be afraid of? Worse came to worse, Bull would just have to come back and pick him up, right? 

He had to retype the message a few times, but once he was satisfied, he went ahead and hit send. 

_**FENRIS:** Hello, it's Fenris. This is a sizable stadium, where would you like me to meet you? _

Fenris said goodbye to his friends as they departed toward the parking garage, wishing him the best of luck and Isabela dropping him a wink. He was startled when his phone buzzed in his hand. 

_**HAWKE:** hi!! i'm changing now, would you meet me outside the east entrance? it's the least crowded. _

_**FENRIS:** Sure. _

Maker, his heart was pounding. He glanced at his reflection in one of the doors, adjusting the collar of his shirt. Isabela had left it open four buttons down, exposing a good amount of the tattoos on his upper chest. He frowned, buttoning two of them and tucking the tail of his shirt into his jeans. There, that was... sort of better. He couldn't look past that bandage on his nose, but he also couldn't take that off and then fairly ridicule Bull about not taking his blood pressure medication in the morning. He would just have to bear through it- even if he had to wear it during his first date with a baseball star. 

Most of the crowd was heading out the main entrance as it was the closest one to the parking garage. The east entrance was closer to the player's dugout and the locker-rooms. It was dark outside by now, unsurprisingly, since it was about 10:00. He stepped outside, leaning against the stadium wall and scrolling through his phone. It was a comfortable enough temperature that he shouldn't want to wear a jacket- but it never got this cold out in Tevinter. In the winter, maybe, but very rarely. The warm weather was probably the only good thing about that place, now that he thought about it. 

He'd sat out there waiting for about 15 minutes when a hand touched him gently on the shoulder, snatching his eyes away from his phone screen. Instinctively, he was defensive, making a move to attack whoever had snuck up on him but quickly he realized it was only Hawke. He had a dufflebag slung over one of his shoulders, car keys hanging out of one of his pockets, and he wore this grape purple polo shirt that would look absolutely hideous on anyone that wasn't Garrett Hawke. He had a nice golden watch on one of his wrists, the same one he was wearing in the shop earlier, and Fenris noted that there were some blood red tattoos down his right bicep. That is... definitely interesting. 

"Hey, sorry for keeping you waiting. I was almost afraid you'd decide it wasn't worth it and go home," he smiles, but the man's cheeks darken a little as he looks Fenris over- trying to be as polite and discreet about it as possible, but he was pretty sure that it wasn't working. "You... clean up nicely, Fenris," he managed. 

"It was no trouble," Fenris assured him, tucking his phone into his pants pocket. He could feel something inside him do a dance at the compliment, but he did his best to contain the smile he felt coming. "It was... nothing. You put me to shame, especially with this." He gestures to the bandage again. Wow, had it been that long since he'd been flirtatious with some one? That sounded... horrible. With Isabela, he didn't really have to be good at it. She understood what he meant without him having to say it right. This was going to be a lot different. "How you clean up." He added, hoping that would fix it but suddenly realizing he probably just made it worse. 

Hawke only blushed more deeply and his smile widened to form these silly little dimples in his cheeks. "Don't worry about it, you look amazing," he chuckled. "but, thank you. Come on, we should get going if we want to find somewhere to eat that's still open." 

Hawke's car was... nice. He'd grown so used to Isabela's shitty convertible that to see a car in decent condition was like seeing a unicorn. It wasn't some ridiculously expensive sports car or anything, but he could see his own reflection perfectly in the streetlight. Hawke walked him to the passenger side, opening the door for him for which Fenris was grateful. He was almost scared to touch a car this nice, like he might taint it or something. After putting his baseball stuff in the trunk, Hawke climbed into the driver's seat and let out a satisfied sigh as he settled in, shoulders relaxing. 

The inside of the car smelled like fresh tanned leather and those pine-tree shaped air fresheners. It was a strange combination, but not an unwelcome one. It made him feel sort of warm inside, which should have calmed him down but, instead, made him even more nervous than he already was. Once they were on the road, an awkward silence fell over them: both contemplating which would decide to talk first. 

"So, do you have a preference, Fenris?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at the elf and playing a smirk. "I did say we could go wherever you wanted." 

Fenris wasn't sure about that, actually. He'd lived in Kirkwall for three years now and he still didn't have much of a clue of what was what around here. Bull always decided where they ate, or Isabela decided: depending on who he was with at the time. He just followed along, content to be wherever they were. He racked his mind for something, anything that could potentially be the name of a restaurant but there was nothing. "I hate to say it, but I don't," he admitted with a defeated laugh. "I admit, I don't get around this town." 

"Truly? There is so much to Kirkwall." 

"You can choose," Fenris suggested. "I would prefer it that way, actually." 

"O-Okay, how about uh-... how do you feel about Antivan food?" 

"There's nothing better. Aside from, perhaps, Fereldan." 

"Fereldan?" Hawke laughed, casting the elf an inquisitive look. "Not many people will admit that they like Fereldan food, I always feel like the odd man out." 

"And I've never lived in Ferelden a day in my life," Fenris chuckled. "That's all they serve at the Hanged Man. I acquired a taste for it." 

"I grew up there," he sighed, almost wistfully. "The Free Marches will never really live up to it." 

Fenris was about to respond when he felt his phone buzz again, and Isabela's name flashed on the screen.

_**ISABELA:**  Good lick on your date!!!!!!_

_**ISABELA:** Luck* _

_**ISABELA:** Well, there is this thing that you could do with your tongue. Drives a man absolutely crazy. _

_**ISABELA:**  Or, if you really want him to lose his head, I can throw in the pro-tips. _

_**ISABELA:**  As long as you know that you have to take more than just the tip ;)_

_**FENRIS:** Isabela. _

_**FENRIS:** Please._

_**FENRIS:**  Stop_. 

"Friends bothering you?" Hawke questioned, looking slightly amused by the blush on Fenris's cheeks.

"Yes," Fenris locked his phone and tucked it back in his pocket, flipping it on silent so that he could ignore the buzzing. "Quite." 

"Can I ask?" he laughed. 

"Believe me, you are happier not knowing." 

For the rest of the ride to the Antivan restaurant, they bantered about food, then wine, and then Hawke began to talk about his dog, Buddy. A mabari hound who'd come with him from Ferelden, the most intelligent but simultaneously goofy creature on the face of this world. Fenris talked about his relationship with Bull, how they lived together and Bull acted as Fenris's father figure in a way, constantly trying to protect him from everything that he could. Hawke said that was how he felt with Varric. Varric was always looking out for Hawke, trying to keep him safe and provide the best for him in every way possible. They'd met when Hawke was in the minor leagues in Ostagar, and had come to Kirkwall together. They were inseparable ever since. 

He then told Hawke about the misfits at the Lowtown Tattoo Shop. Telling stories about Isabela made him laugh, and Fenris felt himself becoming attached to that laugh. He could have listened to that man laugh for an eternity and never once get tired of it. The restaurant was a charming looking place, and thankfully still open. Hawke said he was a regular there, and that they'd have a table where they wouldn't be bothered too much. He wondered if going out in public was an issue for the Champion, if he constantly had to hide to avoid being smothered by fans. The thought of it actually made him a little bit jealous. 

Before Fenris could get the chance, Hawke rushed around to open the elf's door for him, as he had before. "After you, messere." 

 

* * *

  

Maker's breath, Hawke, that was so dumb. He wants to slam his forehead off of the car door when he hears Fenris chuckle at the comment. "You are quite a gentleman," Fenris noted as he climbed out of the car. 

"I'm really trying," he admitted, and he definitely wasn't joking. He almost wished he had told Bethany, she would give him such good advice right now. She knew how dates worked. "I'm not very good at this sort of thing, I'm afraid." 

"You? Garrett Hawke?" Fenris's eyes widened. "A man like you could court a different woman every night." 

"I think you'd be surprised at how untrue that statement is," Hawke forced an awkward laugh, but felt his nerves settle a little as the waitress guided them to his usual booth. In this light, Fenris looked more handsome than he did waiting outside the stadium. Hawke could really see those tattoos in this light, they were harsh contrast against his dark skin and it was... awe inspiring. 

"Your tattoos," he noted, changing the subject. "They're-" 

"Strange? Intimidating?" Fenris didn't even look at him when voicing that reply. 

"No, that's not what I was thinking." 

"Most would disagree with you. To some, I'm even frightening." 

"I don't understand why they'd be put off," Hawke said honestly. "They're absolutely magnificent." 

Fenris smiled, and Hawke had to resist the urge to snatch the man and kiss him right then and there. "I... did them myself," he said. 

"You must be really talented," Hawke said, moving slightly closer to the elf so that their legs were now brushing. Fenris clearly noticed the change, but he didn't seem object whatsoever. "How long did it take?" 

"Three years," he laughed. "Working on them since I came to Kirkwall."

"Where did you live before?" 

Fenris thought about this for a moment, deciding if he should tell the truth and whether or not that would be appropriate. "Tevinter," he finally answered. "But, there isn't much opportunity there for an elf." 

"Kirkwall isn't better," Hawke chuckled. "but, for the record, I'm glad you decided to come here of all places." 

When the waittress arrived, Hawke asked that she bring out some wine along with the normal drinks. The idea of that actually sounded nice to Fenris, he never really got to have wine anymore, especially good wine. They placed orders for their food before she left, and Fenris realized that Hawke was extremely warm. Not only that, he smelled like the fresh turned earth and cologne. It was enticing. 

"Why are you doing this?" Fenris finally asked, the ony question that had been stirring in his mind since early that afternoon. 

Hawke looked surprised by the question. "Taking you on a date?"

"Yes."

He furrowed his brow in confusion. "Why do people normally take another person on a date?" he asked rhetorically. "Because I think you're attractive, because the color of your eyes really captivates me, because I haven't stopped thinking about you since I met you. That seems... standard, almost." 

Now Fenris felt like a fool, the tips of his ears burning. "I apologize," he said. "It was a stupid question."

"Where you concerned that I had ulterior motives?" 

"I suppose that since you are... who you are, you could have anyone that you wanted for a date, other celebrities, super models," he shook his head. "Instead you've taken me, no one, out to dinner. It boggles the mind." 

"You aren't no one," Hawke smirked, leaning closer to him with his elbows resting on the table. His warmth seemed to envelop Fenris just then, like a fog. "Even if that were true, it doesn't matter. The types of people that you're thinking I _should_ be with are so caught up with their own money and fame that they can't come down from it. You. You are the one I wanted to take out to dinner tonight, and, thank the Maker, here you are. It's that simple." 

"I'm only surprised that I haven't scared you off yet," Hawke concluded. 

"Far from it," Fenris assured him. The waitress then returned with their drinks, as well as some spare wine glasses and a bottle, uncorked and ready. It was Agrezzio, a Tevinter style of wine but easily one of the best. Another one of the very few things Tevinter did right. Hawke went ahead and poured glasses for both of them, and Fenris didn't hesitate to take a sip. It was like heaven for the taste buds.

"So, when I came back from my game in Starkhaven, you wouldn't mind seeing me again?" Hawke prodded with a wry smile. 

Honestly, Fenris hadn't thought much about that. He figured that this would be a one time thing, but clearly Hawke had other things in mind. Was Fenris okay with that? Was this something he wanted? 

"You're a handsome man, Hawke," he noted, returning the smile and finally meeting the other man in the eyes. "but surely, some one else must require your attention." 

"No one," Hawke answered. "haven't had a girlfriend or a boyfriend for a long time now. Not since..." he paused. "since a while ago."

"I'll have to consider it," Fenris refilled his glass, taking another long sip- savoring it while he could. "This is... new." 

"Sure," Hawke nodded, staring down into his own glass. He couldn't help but feel a little hurt, but this _was_ their first date. This man didn't know him that well just yet, it would take time for him to open up, to let down all his walls. Hawke had some of his own walls to get past anyhow. This wasn't bad, was it? God, he needed Bethany on his shoulder right about now. 

He froze when he realized then that Fenris had rest a free-hand on his knee, and based on his expression he'd meant to do it, but was just as surprised and delighted by the gesture as Hawke was. God damn it, his heart was pounding so hard. Fenris tried to hide the smile he felt coming by taking another sip of his wine, humming audibly at the taste it made Hawke's insides sing. 

Through dinner, they avoided the deeper topics and carried on banter about their jobs, life at home, and their most hated TV shows. Fenris had begun to rant about Anders and Judge Judy, and Hawke surprisingly felt the same way. Not about Anders, but about Judge Judy. He also despised Antivan Idol, and Keeping Up With Empress Celene. They were still laughing and joking about Orlesian nobility by the time they'd paid and started walking toward Hawke's car. 

Hawke had to admit, he didn't want Fenris to go, but he had to leave for his flight to Starkhaven first thing that next morning. If he didn't sleep, he'd definitely hear about it from Coach Cullen. Another night, perhaps, Hawke could have taken him up to the Viscount's Way so that he could see the way they lit up the capital building after sunset. If Fenris wanted to see him again, after this, that is. 

Fenris's house was a good way away from the restaurant, all the way on the west side of town. Well, it wasn't a house per say, but a flat that he and Bull had rented since arriving in Kirkwall together. Hawke could easily pick which one to stop at, noting the massive truck in the driveway with the same fresh dents on the driver's side. Hawke offered to walk him out, and Fenris didn't object. 

When they reached the front door, Fenris hesitated to grab the key. He looked up at Hawke, admiring the color of his eyes in the flickering porch light. He wanted to say something, to thank him for dinner, for the conversation, for the wine, but Hawke stopped him completely. The larger man put his callused hands on the elf's cheeks, and pulled him in for a kiss. 

Fenris was in shock for a moment, but he didn't hesitate to kiss back. He laced his arms around Hawke's neck, his heart slamming against his chest so much so that he feared it would burst. As quickly as it began, however, it ended as Hawke gingerly stepped back. Fenris let his hands run over the front of Hawke's shirt as he pulled away, marveling at the muscle there. Normally, he wouldn't let himself lewdly savor such a thing, but Hawke's  kiss melted his brain down to nothing but fuzz and static. 

"I had a good time tonight, Fenris," Hawke said, almost whispering. "Text me while I'm gone, maybe? Only if you want to, that is."

"Perhaps," Fenris smiled up at him, turning to grab the key from under the mat and then sticking it in the lock. There was a soft click as it came open. "Thank you for dinner, Garrett Hawke." 

"Any time," he said instinctively, his heart sinking as the elf waved him goodbye and disappeared into the doorway.

He was grinning  the whole walk to the car, but as soon as the driverside door closed after him- he let his forehead fall against the steering wheel, giggling like a child. "Yes," he sighed, a declaration of happiness, an expression of relief, more for himself than the silence inside the car. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Fuck. _Yes_." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, so Fenris and Isabela were a thing for a while when Fenris first came to Lowtown. It eventually ended because Fenris felt bad for never being able to go all the way with Isabela and Isabela was just "It's cool, sweetheart, we can just stay friends." and yeah. ALSO Fenris is NOT asexual in this world: please do not make that assumption. Sex just scares him, a lot. So I guess that makes him demisexual? Idk
> 
> Hawke has past romantic relationships as well with nondescript person(s), which results in his romantic insecurities and all that. We'll see more of those later on ; D
> 
> Also I promise this story is going to get very deep and angsty. It's not all fluff and roses. I'm writing more than one fic rn, but I'll try to update this as fast as I can because these are a lot easier to write than the updates for my other fic. Please leave a comment if you read and you liked it! I want to know what you think c: Thank you!


	3. Our Days And Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't bookmarked this story yet, please do! I'll be updating this a lot and I'd love for you to see the newest chapters as soon as possible. 
> 
> Thanks to those who have read so far! I'm gonna keep writing but don't skin me alive if the pace slows down in the coming weeks: getting busy with some summer jobs c :
> 
> This is a mostly Hawke-centered chapter and new characters are being introduced, one in particular that some of us were waiting for. Bumping the rating up to mature for some texting conversations that occur before Hawke's big game. Also, the Varric-dad and Bull-dad are overly concerned for their sons, oh boy.
> 
> Enjoy!

_**"** Be silent and safe ― silence never betrays you. **"**_

― John Boyle O'Reilly

 

Hawke always hated leaving for away games, especially because of how upset Buddy would get. Bethany never minded staying in the house to watch him and keep him company, but Hawke couldn't stand that broken hearted look on the mabari's face as he packed his bags and made his way out the door. Buddy cut him off, sitting right in front of the door and letting out a low whine. Hawke frowned, setting his bag on the ground to crouch in front of him. 

"Hey, Bud," he murmured, scratching his dog behind the ear. "It'll just be a week or two, boy. I won't be gone that long." 

Buddy whimpers, pressing his face into Hawke's hand and huffing softly. 

"If I could bring you with me, buddy, I would," Hawke cooed. "We'd tear up that baseball diamond. Yes we would!" 

Bethany stopped in the door way when she saw them, shaking her head and skirting past. She set her bag down on the couch and sighed, stretching her arms. "You'd better get going, brother," she sighed. "Varric doesn't look like he wants to wait forever." 

"Sorry about not making it to your thing," Hawke said as he stood up, grabbing his bags again. 

"It's okay, Garrett," Bethany assured him with a smile. "There's still that MLB get together next month in Hightown. You can make it up to me then." 

He nodded, more to himself than to her. He turned away from Buddy because he couldn't look at him anymore, gently moving him out of the way of the door so that he could open it- despite the bark of protest Buddy gave because of it. "Make sure you walk him three times a day," he began. "and-" 

"I know the drill," she pushed his shoulder out the door. "Get out there before they leave you behind." 

She was right, Varric did look pretty impatient in that car, but he paid no mind as he threw his bags in the backseat and climbed into the passenger. It was a dwarven car, but he'd gotten used to getting himself into it without hitting his head off of the top of it. It took five years, granted, but he still did it. He heard his text message alert tone, a dog barking, and quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket to check and see if it was Fenris. 

"Went good, huh?" Varric asked as they pulled back out onto the road, headed towards the airport. 

No, not Fenris. Just Carver. 

_**CARVER:**  Dont forget your gloves this time _

_**HAWKE:** oh, right! damn it. looks like I already left the house. _

_**CARVER:** Shove your bat up your ass jerk _

_**HAWKE:** kidding. it was a joke, Carver._

"Hawke," Varric said more loudly this time. "Earth to Hawke." 

 He looked up from his phone like a deer in headlights, suddenly reminded of the friendly dwarf sitting in the seat beside him. "Oh, hi, sorry," he shook his head. "Just Carver." 

"How was last night?" Varric asked. "You said his name was... Fenris, right?" 

"Yeah," he fawned just at the mentioning of his name. The man was like a sculpture, it was hard to believe that he even existed. "It was... good. Really good. We kissed after I took him home, and he said we might meet up when I come back to Kirkwall after the game." 

"When are you telling Sunshine?"

Right. He still had to tell Bethany. "I don't know... soon, maybe? I'm not ready for the 'I told you so' just yet." 

"I get it," Varric turned back toward the road, rolling his shoulders as he slouched into his seat. "When can I meet him?"

"I- I don't know. We may not even go on a second date." 

"Sure, sure. That's why he sent you a good luck text just now." 

"What?" 

"Stop texting Carver and look at your notifications."

Hawke did as he was told and, of course, Varric was right. He looked right past the text. How could he have missed it? This was the message he was waiting for all morning. 

_**FENRIS:** Good luck in Starkhaven._

It wasn't very warm, but it was a kind gesture none the less. He got the feeling that this man wasn't the type to do a lot of 'warm' things, so this must've been special for him. It only made Hawke smile even wider as he hastily text back. 

_**HAWKE:** thanks!! I'll need it. _

_**HAWKE:** how'd you sleep? _

The reply took a little longer than Hawke would have liked, and Varric teased him without fail every second that he waited. Maker how he loved and hated this dwarf. 

"See, what did I tell ya," Varric concluded with a smirk. 

"Whatever," Hawke said, as any one could have expected. 

_**FENRIS:** Can't talk. I'm afraid I have somewhere to be at the moment._

_**FENRIS:** Goodbye, Hawke, and as I've said; good luck. _

Hawke bit his lip. Did he just get rejected? It didn't seem like it, but the fear ebbed in the back of his mind. 

_**HAWKE:**  thanks again!!! see ya!_

"You'll go on another date, Hawke," Varric assured him, his tone still teasing. "as long as you're not weird." 

"What? I'm never weird!" 

 "Riigghhttt," the dwarf rolled his eyes. "What about that time where you waited for a guy outside of the gym for 2 hours just so you could compliment him on his lift on his way out?" 

"I had a plan," Hawke defended. "I didn't want to seem creepy by bothering him in the middle of his workout." 

"What about that boy from that bar in Ferelden? You got him a puppy on the second date."

"He said he _wanted_ one. I don't understand why he freaked out." 

"Most people don't expect puppies after the first date, Hawke." 

"It was a _dog!_ Not a wedding ring!" he rolled his eyes. "I got the better end of the deal with that one anyways. He didn't deserve Buddy." 

Varric laughed aloud. "Alright, alright," he chortled. "but still. Run anything you want to say by Sunshine for approval before you actually say it, okay? and if he says something fishy, send it to Junior. He'll decode it for you." 

"I can't do that because she doesn't know about it yet and Carver would just tell me to fuck off," Hawke reminded him. "I can handle my own romantic affairs, Varric." 

"Sure." There was sarcasm in the dwarf's tone, but he decided to ignore it for the time being. 

His phone barked at him again, and he got a little to excited: hoping that by some sort of miracle it would be Fenris. 

No... it was Cullen, actually. 

_**CULLEN:** Be on your best behavior when you arrive, Hawke. We're playing against the Magisters tomorrow night. _

It was unusual for Cullen to send him a text like this, but he could understand. Perhaps Aveline had said something to him about what happened, worried that Hawke might lose his temper at one of the players because of what those Tevinters in the masks did to Fenris. Aveline always made sure that everyone was keeping a close eye on Hawke, so this wasn't new. But he didn't think anything would happen. He knew one of the players on that team quite well, you might even say they were friends. They didn't talk a lot, but when they did, it was like they'd known each other forever. Dorian was different from other Tevinters. He was funny, and surprisingly empathetic. If they didn't live so far apart, they would talk all the time. 

_**HAWKE:** i'll be good, coach, promise! ; D_

_**CULLEN:** I'll hold you to that statement, Garrett. _

Of course Cullen would say that. That was so typical. Hawke locked his phone, setting it on the dash as he reclined in his seat. He slept for the rest of the drive to the airport, hoping that the time he spent away from Kirkwall would go by very, very quickly. 

 

* * *

 

Bull leaned back in his chair, propping one leg up on a table. It was a slow day for The Chargers today, so Fenris had taken the opportunity to pitch in the cage while he had the day off. It was surprising to him that Bull had never coached baseball before, he gave excellent tips about grip and form. Krem was unloading the truck and doing inventory, Bull was supposed to be watching the front but that wasn't really necessary when it was just the three of them in the store. Fenris released a tight breathe through his nose, pitching another fast ball at the net and it bounced harshly back down onto the ground. 

"90," Bull said, taking a sip of his soda as he lazily resets the meter. "You're getting pretty good, big guy. We should call up the minor leagues." 

"And let all of Thedas see my face?" he shook his head, grabbing another ball and rolling it in his palm. "I may as well send Danarius a flare." He pitches again, going for a curveball this time. It rattles the back wall of the cage as it hits the net. 

"87," Bull pops his shoulder, pressing the reset buttons again. "Hey, if you end up being really fucking good, they'll probably be willing to protect you from Danarius just for the sake of keeping you on the field. Shit like that happens all the time. You know how much professional athletes can get away with?" 

"I do, and I'd rather not ponder," he huffed. "and alas, I'm an elf. A Tevinter elf, no less." 

"A Tevinter elf with a 95 mile fast ball," Bull chuckled, a bit of pride gleaming in his eyes.  

"Is that what I just threw?" Fenris looks stunned.

"Hell yeah, come look if you don't believe me." 

He's tempted, so he sets the ball down in the basket and moves over to where Bull is sitting in a lawn chair beside the meter. He taps the screen with a knuckle, a smirk parting his cheeks as he takes another chug of the Dr. Pepper in his hand. "That's your best one yet, killer," the qunari gives his friend a harsh pat on the back, shaking his shoulder a little too roughly. "If I didn't know anything about ya, I'd say that kiss from the Champion put you in good spirits." 

Fenris blushed ripe at that, shaking his head and pushing Bull's hand off of him and turning back toward the cage. "I detest when you spy on me, Bull," he grumbled as he grabbed another ball from the basket, tossing it between his hands mindlessly. "I'm no _child_." 

"Yeah, it's not _you_ I'm worried about, kid," Bull said. "It's them." 

Fenris snorts. "Bull, I'm not-" 

"That's not what I mean," he interrupts. "Guys are selfish, especially guys like him. You gotta assume their intentions are bad for your own sake." 

"He says the same thing about girls," Krem calls from the back. He was going out with this local girl named Maryden. She was the kind of person who sat on the street corner and sang for tips. Apparently she was recording an album right now, which was pretty cool. Bull wasn't quick to let her too close to Krem either, until Krem had forced him to. 

Fenris only shook his head again, readying another fastball. If anything really got his blood pumping, it was the sound of that ball rattling the walls of the cage after he pitched. This was all he had left of the life he had before Danarius. It made him feel like that man hadn't truly taken everything from him after all. At least he would never be able to take this. 

"The guy's famous, and probably loaded," Bull continued, ignoring Krem's comment. "92. And people like that struggle with committed relationships."

"We went on _one_ date," Fenris pitched another. "I don't intend to prepare a dowry." 

"92 again," Bull huffed. "This is the first date you've gone on since Isabela, and you two never went on 'dates'. I'm tryin' to make sure you don't get hurt here, Fenris." 

Fenris nearly countered that, but instead kept his mouth shut. He gestured for Bull to go ahead and turn the speed tracker off as he went behind the net to gather the scattered balls. After returning them to where he'd got them, Isabela conveniently arrived at the door with Merril wrapped around her arm. It looked like they'd just gotten off the clock, because they were still wearing the Lowtown uniform t-shirts. Bull nodded at them, giving the girls a grin. 

"Hey! This guy just pitched 95," he pointed a thumb at Fenris, who couldn't help but smirk a little at the praise. 

"Shoot, no way!" Isabela gasped, looking at her elven friend in awe. "You're joking!" 

Fenris slowly shakes his head, smile only growing wider. Merrill squeaks with joy and rushes over to take him in her arms, squeezing him as tightly as she can. Fenris stiffens at the touch, nearly moving to hit her out of instinct but he refrains. Seeing the uncomfortable expression on his face, Isabela quickly pulls Merrill off; making it seem as casual as possible. 

"You're sooo talented, Fenris!" the elf girl cooed. "Why are you still working at a tattoo shop? You could be like Hawke!" 

"That's what I told him," Bull laughed. 

"Speaking of Hawke," Isabela turned her gaze back to Fenris, waggling her eyebrows at him. "How was your date? Did you regret not taking any of my advice?"

"Fine," he answered. "and no, I don't." 

"The Iron Bull said that he kissed you," Merrill noted, looking between the two of them. "Is that true?" 

The tips of his ears suddenly began to burn as though they'd been layered with simmering coals. " _Bull,_ " he growled, glaring at his roommate now. 

"That was our little _secret,_ Marigold," Bull murmurs, shit-eating grin never leaving his face. "You weren't supposed to tell." 

"Oh no! I'm so sorry. I won't do it again, I promise!" 

Fenris shakes his head, taking off his pitching gloves and tucking them into his backpack. "I'm going to get coffee," he said. 

"I'll go too," Isabela hummed. "That sounds pretty good right now." 

"Alone, please," Fenris said, casting an apologetic look to his friend. "I need to think." 

"Alright, suit yourself," she shrugs, turning away as he heads out the door. He ignored the departing wave that Merrill gave him, and kept his attention focused forward as he made his way up the sidewalk. 

He spent the last few hours of the afternoon at that cafe, reading, thinking. He got a flat-white with almond milk and light cream, like he always did. He wasn't a man known for his fondness of change. He was reading a book that Isabela had gotten for him, which surprisingly wasn't dirty at all. It was a religious book, which usually wouldn't interest him, if it weren't a book telling the story of Shartan. Shartan was an elf who lead a slave rebellion thousands and thousands of years ago against the Tevinter magisters, and the book captivated him. He found himself relating to Shartan, in a way, though he couldn't quite say that he was ever a slave. 

The book helped him a lot, because he couldn't seem to stop thinking about that ball player, Garrett Hawke. I mean, was this his dream come true? Yes. Had Hawke made it clear that he was interested in Fenris? Yes. Then what was holding him back? Why couldn't he just release his inhibitions and go into this thing full force just to delve himself in the moment, not worrying about where it goes? What was stopping him? Why was he so afraid?  

Perhaps it was because Fenris wasn't sure how far Hawke wanted to go, and if he would be able to give that. It's not like he hadn't thought about it, even before he actually met Hawke in person the thoughts crept to his mind late at night like a cold he couldn't shake. Imagining what he looked like out of uniform, appreciating the way he looked _in_ uniform and how it seemed almost angelic. 

But then, seeing him that night in the Hanged Man parking lot... He was just wearing some plain old jeans and a weathered t-shirt but it sparked a new energy in Fenris that made gears begin to grind, ones that hadn't turned in years. And that stupid, hideously purple polo that shot an arrow through his heart. His fingers stuttered trying to turn the pages when a memory creeped back of Hawke's hands clutching his face, warm lips against his own and Hawke's beard tickling his chin... 

To say he didn't want it would be a complete, bold-faced lie. But... he felt like this for Isabela too. Not quite as strongly, but he had these same animalistic urges for her once upon a time. He hated to think it but perhaps this was something he could blame Danarius for as well. Everything that had been done to him, had it broken him completely? 

No. It hadn't. He refused to believe that. Danarius would not take this from him. Danarius had no influence over his love life or anything it entailed, nor could he break Fenris's mind. Fenris wouldn't allow it, not while he was still standing. 

He gathered his things together, getting another order of coffee to-go, and began to walk back home as the sun set. Bull gave him a strange look when he walked in, as if he somehow knew what Fenris was thinking, but Fenris ignored him and headed straight to his room: locking the door behind him. 

 

* * *

 

As much as Hawke hated traveling, he didn't mind the fancy hotels. He, Varric, and Carver used to share a room, but Varric could never stand Hawke's snoring, nor the way that Carver talked in his sleep. So, all the baseball players just started renting out one entire hotel floor so that everyone was in close proximity without having to bunk it up. It was a lot easier that way, especially now that they were becoming a more popular team and they could afford it. As he set his bags down and plopped down on the bed, he felt tempted to text Fenris. They were still in the same timezone, so it was definitely dark out for Fenris too. What if he wasn't off of work yet? What if he didn't want a text from Hawke?

Varric would know what to do, or Bethany. But Bethany wasn't an option right now. He turned on his side and pulled his phone out, tapping the dwarf's name. 

_**HAWKE:** hey, should i text him?? i really want to but i'm psyching myself out..._

Unsurprisingly, he responds almost immediately. 

_**VARRIC:** Text him, Hawke. Or I will. _

Right. of course he would say that. Hawke took a deep breathe, chewing the inside of his cheek as he tapped the tab with Fenris's name on it. Why was he so scared? The worst that could happen is Fenris not responding, right? He typed his message at least six different times before he could hear Varric scolding him in the back of his mind and he just went ahead and hit send. 

_**HAWKE:** hey!! I just got to my hotel in Starkhaven, was hoping I could catch you before you went to sleep : ) _

He copied the message and sent it to Varric. 

_**HAWKE:** hows that??_

_**VARRIC:** Ah, the classic Hawke charm._

_**HAWKE:** Varric!!! this is serious! _

_**VARRIC:** It's nothing, Hawke. You're doing fine._

Fenris just couldn't respond fast enough. Every second that ticked by only worsened his nausea. Then, his phone barked at him again.

_**FENRIS:** You've caught me. I've just arrived home as well._

He imagined Fenris saying that for a moment, in that deep, sultry voice of his. Maker, he was a creep. Varric was right. 

_**HAWKE:** how was your day? _

Small talk couldn't hurt, right? It was better than nothing. 

_**FENRIS:** Average. I spent time pitching in Bull's shop before an afternoon coffee. A typical day off. _

_**FENRIS:** Yourself? _

Wait... did Fenris just say that he _pitched?_ He screenshotted the messages and sent them to Varric. What else was he supposed to do?

_**HAWKE:** Varric, what is happening????_

_**VARRIC:** Well, it seems like Fenris is quite the catch. _

He didn't just say that. He didn't. 

_**HAWKE:** Varric... _

_**VARRIC:** Stop panicking, and be yourself. If something seems to be going horribly wrong, then you can get a hold of me._

_**VARRIC:** It's all in your head. _

Hawke sighed audibly and set his phone down on the bed, getting up to change out of his clothes and into his sleepwear- which was usually just a pair of boxers. As he laid back down, he stared at Fenris's texts in silent contemplation for several minutes before he actually started typing.

_**HAWKE:** wait, did I read that right? you said you... pitched??? _

_**FENRIS:** Hah, yes, you did. I do have hobbies. _

Great, now Hawke just felt like an idiot. 

_**HAWKE:** I'm sorry, I guess you just didn't seem like the type? haha _

There it goes. He blew it. He totally just blew it. 

 _ **FENRIS:** Understandable. I don't talk about it much, why I do it is fairly personal._  

Okay... maybe he could still fix this? 

_**HAWKE:** can I ask what your best pitch was?? if thats okay, I get it if it's not. _

_**FENRIS:** I... beat a personal record today;_

_**FENRIS:** 95 mph on a fast ball. _

Hawke gaped as though that 95 mph ball had just struck him straight in the heart. 

_**HAWKE:** OMG!!! _

_**HAWKE:** our pitcher's best isn't even that high! Vael's record is at 89!!! _

_**HAWKE:** you're amazing!!!!!!!!! _

_**FENRIS:** You flatter me. _

_**HAWKE:** why aren't you playing baseball?? you could be a legend!!! _

_**FENRIS:** I have a variety of personal reasons. _

_**FENRIS:** How was your day, Hawke? _

Maker, take him. He was on the brink of falling apart and giving up everything for this man. 

_**HAWKE:** tiring. I hate saying goodbye to Buddy, it's the hardest part of this career. the way he looks at me makes me feel like the worst dad ever. _

_**HAWKE:**  I feel better talking to you, though   : )_

_'Please don't mess this up now, Hawke,'_ he thought. _'Please...'_  

_**FENRIS:** That feeling is mutual. _

_**FENRIS:** And you couldn't be. If you were, he wouldn't miss you so. _

A sudden thought came to his mind and he bit his lip. Was now the right time? Would he sound like a pervert or a creep for asking? He hesitated, but typed the message none the less. 

_**HAWKE:** you're right, but it's hard to think that when you're staring at his betrayed, broken-hearted face._

_**HAWKE:** can I ask you something, though? _

_**FENRIS:** Yes? _

Maker, forgive him. 

_**HAWKE:** your tattoos, you never said how far they go. _

_**FENRIS:** That's not a question, Hawke. _

_**FENRIS:** Alas, I couldn't show you the full extent of them without being stripped bare. _

_**FENRIS:**  I believe that would be inappropriate in present circumstances. _

Andraste have mercy, why was that so hot? Now he couldn't get the image out of his head, Fenris stripped bare, beautiful tattoos lining every muscle in his arms, his abdomen... 

_**HAWKE:** can I at least see a few of them? ; )_

_**HAWKE:** if you're comfortable with that. _

There is no response for almost five minutes and Hawke starts to worry that he's scared Fenris off. However, the next message with the attachment notification says otherwise. 

It's Fenris, of course, taking a picture of himself in the mirror. He's in black jeans, but he's bare footed and missing a shirt. Hawke can see the tattoos on the tops of his feet, going down his toes. Then on his arms, up to his shoulder, his neck, then traversing down his chest, back and hips. It's more sexy and beautiful than anything Hawke could have ever imagined. Fenris's hair is sloppily tied out of his face in a bun, and as he looks at himself in the phone he looks like he's... Oh Maker, is he biting his lip? 

_**FENRIS:** I'd say that's 1/4 of them. _

_**FENRIS:** Is that what you had in mind? _

_**HAWKE:** Maker, yes._

_**HAWKE:** you're like a work of art. _

_**HAWKE:** the most sexy, powerful, beautiful wotk of art I've ever seen. _

_**HAWKE:** work* _

This is it. This was how he was going to die. 

_**FENRIS:** I would see your tattoos, if I may. _

Right! Those tribal letters on his bicep, Fenris must've noticed them on their first date. He wondered if Fenris wanted to see Hawke shirtless as well. He supposed that it was only fair. 

He scrambled out of bed and into the hotel bathroom, suddenly realizing his boxers did absolutely nothing to hide how much he'd liked that picture of Fenris. He immediately grabbed his baseball pants since they were on the top of his bag and pulled them on. That was better, not perfect, but better. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times before posing himself in the mirror, awkwardly flexing the arm with the tattoos but making sure to get his chest and face in the shot. It took a few tries, but he got it to work in the end. It had been a while since he'd done anything like this, it made him feel so... empowered. 

He sent the picture and anxiously awaited a response as he kicked the baseball pants back off and clambered back into his bed. Fenris's response came faster than he'd originally anticipated. 

_**FENRIS:** Fasta vass. _

Was that... a cuss word? A Tevinter cuss word? He swore he'd heard Dorian use it before. 

_**HAWKE:** ?_

_**FENRIS:** Forgive me, I had never imagined you would be so... physically capable._

_**FENRIS:** Bull nearly came into my room, concerned I'd hurt myself after hearing such expletives. _

_**HAWKE:** so, you liked it? ; ) _

_**FENRIS:** Extremely. _

_**HAWKE:** I can send more if you want...._

_**FENRIS:** No, I must refrain. As much as I would like to indulge._

_**FENRIS:** You need to rest for the game in the morning, and I have work. _

_**FENRIS:** Goodnight, Hawke._

Hawke went back to stare at the picture Fenris had sent him, his heart slamming in his chest as he tried to follow the trail of the spiraling branches and lines down below his pant line. Unable to get any sleep after that, he just went ahead and took a shower, making sure that everything was 'taken care of'. Maybe now he could actually sleep, but that didn't stop the image of Fenris from continuing to swim around in his mind. 

 

* * *

 

He didn't really have a lot of trouble getting up that morning, considering the fact that he could hear Cullen shouting from all the way down the hallway for everyone to get out of bed, as if they were soldiers who'd slept in and missed drill. He pulled on his uniform in a frenzy, making sure everything was tucked where it was supposed to be tucked and his shoes tied the way they were supposed to be tied before storming out the door and standing at attention in the doorway. This was the away game ritual for them. Cullen screaming, everyone getting dressed like a gun was pressed to their heads, and then standing stiff outside their doors with their shoulders squared and hands at their sides like militants in waiting as Cullen counted heads: making sure that no body was suddenly sick or hung over. 

Tease him all they liked, Cullen scared the piss out of each and every one of them. New players were usually the only ones with enough balls to give him back talk and Cullen wouldn't hesitate to tear them right off. In a past life, Cullen was the military general that lead Ferelden's armies to victory against Orlais ten thousand years or so ago. Hawke would be willing to bet money on it. 

"At ease," Cullen waves a hand, allowing everyone to relax and stop holding their breath for the time being. "Get your bags, boys. We have an army of Magisters to kick back to the Imperium." 

The boys cheered at that, and Hawke could feel the adrenaline pumping into his system already. This sport was his life, and he never regretted a day of it. 

The game lasted a little past noon, it was 5 o' clock pm when Alistair made his last hit that got everybody home. He was a transfer from the major league team, the Ferelden Grey Wardens, who became part of the team a few years back, and he was one of the best hitters they had. Blackwall was good too, don't get him wrong, but his whole demeanor was so awkward and intimidating. It was hard for Hawke to even _speak_ to the man.

It was a close game, but they still managed to come out on top even if it was only by two home runs. This wasn't their last game for the day, they would be playing the Starkhaven Royals within two hours or so. Most of the players spent that time getting some more practice in, Hawke wanted to take the time to see his Tevinter friend while he got the chance. It was only a couple of times a year that the two were granted such a reunion. 

The stadium was mostly empty in the hours between games, aside from the vendors preparing for the next wave of fans to roll in. It would probably be an hour before the people with tickets for the next game started showing up, now was a good a time as any to hunt down a certain Tevinter pitcher. 

He could see the red and gold jersey on the other side of the walkway, and he raised his hand to wave when some one cut him off. They grabbed him by the arm and pushed him down by the back of his head, dragging him off into a near by corner to kick him onto the ground with shameless ease. Hawke pushed himself up, raising his fists and swinging blindly but a hand snaked past his guard and wrapped around his throat, slamming him up against the wall with the force of some one twice the size of his attacker. They were wearing a hood, and in the position he was in it was nearly impossible to see their face. 

Hawke reached forward to grab his attacker's face, but they dodged as though they expected him to do that the whole time. He turned Hawke over on his shoulder and twisted his arm painfully behind his back, face scraping against the concrete wall. His attacker's face was dangerously close to his own now, Hawke could feel their breath from beneath the hood. 

"You'll stay away from that elf if you want to keep batting for the Marchers, Champion," they snarled. "It would be a shame to see something happen to a player with such promise."

Hawke strained his pinned arm, unable to get any leverage, but as his attacker began to speak, he found that their grip on him loosened. He took the chance to whirl around and he allowed his free hand to punch the attacker square in the jaw. They crumbled at his feet, and Hawke was fuming. He didn't hesitate to grab them by that bloody hoody and lift them up off of the concrete. He punched again, and then again until he could see blood, before dumping them back onto the ground. Not without a swift kick to the side, of course. 

He heard laughter coming from behind him, and instinctively he whirled around to attack but paused when he realized it was only Dorian, grinning and clapping. "You should have known that Hawke could beat you like a mule with both hands tied behind his back," he called to the attacker on the ground, who was presently being drug away by stadium security. "What trouble you find yourself in, my friend. There seems to be no end to it." 

Hawke could already feel himself relaxing at the sound of Dorian's voice, like water putting out a fire. "Dorian," he chuckled, grabbing the man by the arm and pulling him into a hug. The Tevinter laughed, awkwardly returning the embrace. "I'll never get tired of seeing your face." 

"You best hope not," Dorian retorts with a smirk. "We'll be seeing a lot more of each other later this season." Hawke raises an eyebrow at him, looking confused and Dorian only laughs. "Come, let's go and get some coffee while time allows it. We can talk there."

He and Dorian took Dorian's car there. Hawke would never be able to get used to the fancy Tevinter cars. It wasn't uncommon for other ball players to have nice cars like this but it wasn't really Hawke's thing. He liked to live modestly, nice cars were just material things. He felt like he would tarnish it somehow just with his presence.

They found a coffee shop not far from the stadium, they would easily be back in time for the next game. Dorian sat across from him, humming delightfully as he took a sip of his fancy coffee drink that he'd spent at least 10 minutes ordering- ensuring that the barista had it just right. Hawke was a lot more simple, just some mocha iced coffee was enough for him, maybe with a little extra pump of chocolate syrup. 

"So, what were you saying?" Hawke prodded. "What do you mean I'm going to see you more? We don't have another game with the Magisters until the season championships." 

Dorian smiled, leaning forward to put his elbows on the table. "First things first, dear Champion. What was that scrabble I witnessed? That thug seemed to come out of no where." 

Hawke sighed, twirling his straw between two fingers. His cheeks were still raw from scrubbing the concrete, and his knuckles nearly bleeding. Was this the trouble that Aveline had warned him about? What did Fenris do to get these people so angry at him? Who _was_ Fenris? Was this retaliation for that night in the parking lot when Hawke threatened those 'vints? Did Hawke piss some one off? Or did Fenris piss someone off, and Hawke managed to get himself tangled in? 

"I don't even know, honestly," Hawke admitted. "A little while ago, there was this guy getting mugged in a parking lot. Or, it looked like he was getting mugged, anyway. I helped him out, beat the shit out of the guys that did it and told them if I saw them again that they'd regret it. They were Tevinters, wearing masks to hide their faces. Aveline said trouble might come of this but to follow me to Starkhaven, and attack me here? I don't know, Dorian." 

Dorian listened patiently, nodding along and pursing his lips in thought. "Sounds like a cult, Maker knows which though," he gave a dry laugh. "Too many to count in Tevinter. The Magesterium may as well be one of them, my father included. That's dangerous business, Hawke." 

"However," he continued. "if they wanted you dead, I daresay they would have killed you already." 

"Thanks, Dorian," Hawke said sarcastically, his frustration evident in his tone. "That makes me feel so much better." 

"Listen," Dorian reached between them to put a hand on the other man's arm, giving a small squeeze. "That being said, this was likely just a warning, or pay back for what you did to them in that parking lot. One man against you? That's hardly a threat at all." 

Hawke chewed the inside of his cheek, continuing to stare blankly down into his drink. "The guy from the parking lot, his name is Fenris. We... kinda went on a date, and may go on another one. Do you think one thing has to do with another?" 

Dorian pondered this for a moment, humming audibly in thought as he takes another sip of his drink. "I doubt it, but if he's a target of their's and they think that you're protecting him, that could be it. Though, it would be difficult to know for certain." 

Hawke nodded absently. "This was probably just a one time thing, reguardless," he said, more to himself than to Dorian. "It's not worth making a big deal right now. I don't want to risk scaring him off." 

Dorian snorts. "So, you like him?" he inquired, a smirk creeping back into his features. 

Hawke nodded again, grabbing his phone and pulling up the picture Fenris had sent him the night before, showing it to Dorian. "That's him."

"Garret Hawke," Dorian scolded playfully as he took the phone to look at the photo. "He's definitely Tevinter, I dare say very few of us come out looking as dashing as myself, but he comes close." He winked and handed the phone back, stirring his drink with the draw. 

"He seems to want to go on a second date," Hawke explained. "If I have a chance with him at all, I don't want to seem paranoid and then screw it up." 

"You'll be fine, my friend," Dorian grinned. "Not with me to vouch for you." 

"Right, again remind me what were you trying to tell me in the stadium? I didn't quite understand." 

"Ah, yes, yes, the topic of the afternoon," he languidly leans back in his seat. "I got a call from Orsino after your game with Orlais. He's offering to double the amount on my current contract if I play for the Marchers for the last half of this season, and every season after." 

Hawke's eyes lit up at this, hardly able to believe his ears. "He _what?_ Are you taking it? Are you going to play for the Marchers?" 

"Well, of course," he chuckled. "I'm not too proud to pitch for a southern team. Besides, Tevinter was starting to wear on me anyway. My complexion couldn't take it." 

"I've started looking at houses already, and I might soon have a place picked out," the pitcher continued. "I'll need some help moving in, if you've a mind." 

"Of course!" he said almost too enthusiastically. "As if this season couldn't get any better." 

Dorian laughed at that. "Don't get too excited, Hawke. Everything that goes up is eventually bound to come back down. Law of the universe, and such." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, essentially, Hawke is gay and Fenris is bi c : In case you didn't catch that already! I imagine that if Fenris could read, he'd enjoy it a lot- so thus he's a reader ! Hawke is so awkward at texting, and I love it, especially when it comes to Fenris.
> 
> More stuff about cults and Tevinter, we'll get into how that ties in with Fenris going to prison and Danarius and all of that eventually, for now, it's not going to make sense and that's okay c : 
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed it! I want to know what you think !!!!!


	4. The Truth Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New tags added for some Fenris and Danarius nightmares / flashbacks, Danarius obviously has a kink for slavery and is a very sick and twisted man in every sense imagineable. If anything associated with that makes you uncomfortable, don't read it. I don't really like suger coating things, I'm sorry. As a writer, I find it's best to really try to expose how wrong and evil an act truly is to the reader to get the full effect rather than censoring it for fear of offending some one. So, if you get offended, I warned you. It's not my fault that you continued to read, thank you!! c:
> 
> Below are some illustrations I did for this fic, I hope you like them!! They're huge, so please forgive me haha

 

 

* * *

_**“** Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength. **”**_

― Corrie ten Boom,

 

The sound of heeled shoes against a linoleum floor, keys jingling with every shift of weight; it came closer with each passing second. He couldn't move, and those footsteps, those _shoes_ , they _knew_ it. They savored every second of it. 

He was helpless to escape, though his wrists and ankles were bound sloppily. He should have been able to break the ties with ease, but their grip tightened with every pull. 

This wasn't real, he knew that. Yet, despite that fact, fear quickened the pace of his heartbeat with every click of those shoes against that floor. Soon, they stopped, and he could feel that shadow draping over him as that dreadfully familiar figure conjured itself in the doorway. 

A slow, wry smirk spreading across a wickedly thin pair of lips. "Hello, little wolf." 

He does not answer, he only pulls his knees up to his chest, desperate to press more tightly to the wall as if it may some how protect him, before spitting at it's feet. 

It chuckles, stepping forward to grind the toe of their slick, reflective leather shoe against the new found puddle on the tile. "Now, is that any way to greet your master, my pet?" 

"You. Don't. Own. Me," Fenris bit out. "You never will." 

It laughs again and Fenris could have snarled like a rabid dog. "Ah, but I do. Your every fear,  your every passing thought, and your every nightmare _all_ belong to me. Do not attempt to deny that which is painfully obvious, little wolf." 

"Why are you _doing_ this?!" Fenris managed. Suddenly the ties had spread up his arms and now slowly began to wrap around his upper torso as though a spider were preparing him for the web. "You have nothing to gain but spite!" 

"Yes, and a great deal of entertainment," it cooed. "28 years, was it? Or, I apologize, was it 32? I can never remember." 

"You're a _monster_ ," the elf declared through clenched teeth. 

"Ah, and you're so innocent?" it clicked it's tongue. "A pesky little lyrium dealer with no money, no college education, and no home... no _promise_. Would that man that you lust after so shamefully still desire you if he knew who you really were, as I do? You're so greedy, so selfish in your own way and oh, how you dance around it, little wolf. What a game you play with yourself. I turned you into something magnificent."

"I had no choice," he argued. The ropes that bound him had encased his entire body now and were slowly coming to wrap around his throat. "I'm _nothing_ like you." 

"Then, why did you kill all those men, pray tell?" it loomed over him now, eyes peering straight into him as though it were a predator sizing up it's prey. "If you are so innocent, so pure of heart. Did they deserve the fate you brought on them?" 

"I didn't!  _You_ did!" 

It laughed loudly at that, throwing it's head back and clutching at it's chest. "Oh- oh, how ridiculous you are, truly, Leto," it feigned wiping tears from it's eyes as it recovered from it's cackling, grinning at him. "A rose sprouting against the taint of the ashes and the rubble." 

"You'll never find me," Fenris choked, every breath tightening the ropes' grip on him. "I'll live the life that you tried to steal. I'll get my college degree, I'll get married, I'll have a house, have a child, grow old, retire, and _die._ And _none_ of those things will have _anything_ to do with you." 

"So you think, my pet, so you think," Danarius grabbed him by the chin rather harshly, hungrily staring into the other's eyes. "but your life will always be mine. No matter how hard you kick, or how loudly you scream, I am the ring leader in this circus. You're just a tiger who's been out of his cage for much too long." 

 

"Fenris," a deep voice commanded, thick hands grabbing his shoulders and shaking. "Andraste's tits, Fenris, wake up!" 

He acted out of instinct, not even aware of what he was doing or who was touching as he lunged forward, fist connecting with Bull's jaw and knocking him back. Bull wasn't able to catch himself before he collapsed onto his ass on the carpet, giving a defeated grunt. "Alright, alright, I'll give it to you. That was a pretty good one," he craned his head to pop his neck, sighing at the relief of pressure as he stood up, rubbing the new sore spot on his chin. "but it's just me, big guy. Relax."

Fenris looked down at his knuckles, one of them bloodied. That... _was_ a really good hit. He popped his wrist, carefully clutching his hand to his chest.  "I'm... sorry," he said half-heartedly. "That was... undeserved." 

"Yeah? No shit," Bull huffed. He sat down on the edge of the bed beside Fenris, still cradling his jaw. "Really bad one this time, huh?" 

"I suppose," he avoided the qunari's gaze, staring idly at his hands. "I don't want to talk about it." 

"Fair enough," the qunari shrugged. "You should come to the service with me this Sunday, Fenris. They've got exercises for people like you." 

"Ah? People who punch their friends for trying to wake them up?" 

Bull laughed. "No, smart ass. People with night terrors." 

"I'm not interested in giving myself to the Qun for the sake of my sleep," Fenris scoffed. "I'll be fine." 

"Eh, probably for the best. You're too stubborn for the Qun anyways," he chuckled as he stood up. "Come on and get some breakfast, kid. You start your shift soon." 

 

* * *

 

Two long weeks came and went before Hawke was finally able to arrive home. He and Fenris had texted each other almost every night once he'd come home from his games and once the elf had gotten off of work. There was definitely flirting there, but the elf had refrained from sharing any more pictures with him since his very first night in Starkhaven. He was disappointed, he had to admit, but he understood. Perhaps Fenris was a man to take these things one step at a time. 

He took some time to talk to Orsino between one of the games, and the man confirmed that Dorian was, indeed, joining the Marchers once mid-season rolled around. Hawke was completely thrilled, the Tevinter would make a unique addition to his little friend group. He only hoped that this thing he had going on with Fenris lasted long enough for Dorian to be able to meet him when he got here. 

There was temptation to ask Fenris about the people who'd 'mugged' him in that parking lot where they'd met. He even typed the message a few times, but he always deleted it before hitting send. Varric kept insisting that Hawke had a right to know if those two were going to start seeing each other, but Hawke just shrugged it off. He wouldn't push the issue too much yet, they'd only been talking for 3 weeks after all. Wait... wait... that's almost- that's almost an entire _month_. 

Hawke was thankful to be off the plane, though, and the tiny dwarven car was a welcome sight, even as Hawke hit his head off of the top of it trying to climb in. He couldn't wait to see Buddy again. Bethany sent him a few pictures while he was away, which helped a little bit, but that dog was his other half. Just a picture would never be enough to keep Hawke from missing him. Varric laughed as Hawke rubbed his forehead, already pulling out of the airport parking lot and onto the interstate. 

"You're still going to that dinner in Hightown, right?" Varric asked. It was in about three days or so, giving the players a bit of time to rest before they had to make another public appearance. "Sunshine will kill you if you don't." 

"Yeah, probably," Hawke shrugged. "I might ask Fenris if he wants to come." 

"I wouldn't," Varric sighed. 

"What? Why?" 

"You got into trouble twice on his behalf already, and you don't know what kind of shit he's gotten himself into or what kind of shit _you're_ gonna get _yourself_ into by hanging around him." 

"Dorian said that it was probably nothing, just a warning." 

"Yeah, a warning. That means something worse is likely gonna be coming, especially if you take him out again." 

"You and Bethany were the ones telling me to get out there and start seeing people! Now you're being _picky?_ " 

"Hawke, just listen to me, for the Pete's sake," the dwarf let out an exaggerated huff. "Take him out on another date before the party, talk to him about what happened at the stadium. If he doesn't tell you the truth, or refuses to talk, he's not worth it. After what you've been through and what you're likely willing to continue going through for his sake, you ought to know why these people are after him." 

Varric had a point, and Aveline would have likely agreed if she was there, surprisingly enough. And Aveline would keel over before she openly supported anything Varric said or did. He sighed in defeat and nodded, slumping down in his seat. "Alright. I will." 

The dwarf dropped him off at his front door, waving him goodbye as he drove off for his own home just a little ways down the road. Hawke took a moment to take in the smell of the Kirkwall air, enjoying the way it made his stomach flutter. It wasn't a good smell, by any means, like smoke and asphalt, but it was the smell of home. _His_ home. He picked his bags back up off of the sidewalk and slung them over his shoulder, grabbing his keys from the potted plant to the left of the porch. Only to find that... there was no need. The door was already unlocked. Was Bethany still here? 

"I'm home!" he called out, spreading his arms out wide as he let his belongings collapse ceremoniously onto the ground with a loud clatter. Buddy barked with joy, practically flipping the couch over just to jump off of it and run over to him. He laughed, kneeling down to embrace his dog as he placed wet, sloppy kisses all over his face. "I missed you too, boy," he chuckles, trying to escape from the dog's overwhelming affection. 

There are footsteps leaving the kitchen and coming into the living room, he can see Bethany standing there in the corner of his eyes, but she doesn't look at all happy to see him. "Fuck you, Hawke," she snapped, hurt laced deep into her tone. 

He looked up from Buddy, frightened and confused. "W-... what?" 

"Don't look at me like I'm stupid, brother," she huffed, shaking her head. "Dorian told me that you have a boyfriend, and that you lied and never told me about it. Why would you do that? Do you not trust me? I thought you were supposed to be my friend." 

"I _am_ your friend, Bethany," he defended weakly, avoiding her accusatory stare. "and he's... not really my boyfriend. We've only went on one date so far and I just really wasn't ready for the whole 'I told you so' thing." 

"I wouldn't do that to you, Garrett, you're acting ridiculous." Her gaze softened a little, and she came over to sit on the edge of the couch and face him. "Who is he? How'd you meet him? Tell me everything right now, or so help me-..." 

He told her the whole story from beginning to end, even including the parts about the guy who tried to beat him up at the stadium. She listened patiently through all of it, not saying anything until his story was finally finished.

"See, and I _know_ that guy," she rolled her eyes. "I can't _believe_ you sometimes." 

Hawke looked at her as though she'd just sprouted wings. "You _what?_ " 

"I _know_ him," she repeated. "Not well, but he did that tattoo I got for dad when we'd finally settled down in Kirkwall. I went back there one time with Carver to have him cover up that ugly dog tattoo he had on his belly. You even went in that place when you were drunk asking for a tattoo of Andraste's flames on your right ass cheek and they made you leave. You don't remember ANY of that?" 

"No," he admitted sheepishly. "Maker, he didn't know who I was, did he?" 

"He likely wouldn't have recognized you. You used to shave your beard off during the off-seasons back then." 

"Well, I never bothered with that during the season because I was always so tired. It was too much to fuck with when I had other things on my mind." 

"I understand, but I like this look better on you anyways," Bethany giggled. "but I think Varric is right. You shouldn't let this go any further until you know just what the hell is going on with him." 

"Do _you_ know?" he prodded, looking hopeful. 

She shakes her head. "No," she said. "I just know that he and some qunari guy started working there together two years after we came to Kirkwall. I also remember him hanging around this other girl who worked there whenever we came in, but I never asked about it. I didn't want to be rude, we were barely acquaintances after all." 

He nodded, absently turning back towards Buddy and scratching him behind the ears. "So... what am I supposed to do now?" 

"Call him, ask him to come over or something and watch a movie because you want to relax now that you're home, and just casually bring it up to him over pizza or something," she suggested. "Or... maybe suggest going to his house instead. Your place might be intimidating." 

He was about to ask why, and then he remembered that not everyone lived in a luxury Victorian-style villa with two stories and at least three unused guest bedrooms that existed purely for taking up space, excluding the bedrooms that were already there for Bethany and Carver. There was also Orana, the maid. Yeah, she was probably right. His house screamed 'snobby rich asshole' though he'd tried his best to make it seem as cozy and home-like as he possibly could. "I've seen the outside of his apartment, and I think he has a roommate," Hawke said. "He may prefer to go somewhere else." 

"True..." she pursed her lips, staring off toward one of the walls. "Let's give Orana the night off, and spend the day making this place look as modest and humble as we can." 

"So... make as big of a mess as humanly possible, basically?" 

"That's all we _can_ do, and take down that chandelier." 

He looked slowly up at the thing, frowning. "That's mom's," he protested. 

"The future of your love life hangs in the balance here. We can always put it back up after, if you want." 

Hawke sighed, and eventually he laughed. "Alright, let's do it," he declared as he stood up. Buddy barked in agreement, happily wagging his tail. 

 

* * *

 

"You know, if my life had gone differently, I might've become a lawyer," Anders commented as he finished sterilizing the parts of his coil, putting it back together with a gloved hand as Judge Judy played on the TV in the background. "or a judge. I'm almost old enough to do that." 

"I thought that lawyers had to be charming, or at least persuasive," Fenris snorted. He had a client in his chair right now, but they had headphones in and were lost in their own thoughts as Fenris continued his work on their skin. 

"I happen to be very charming, thank you," Anders rolled his eyes. "Unlike some of us. How'd that first date of yours go anyways? With the ball player?" 

"Quite well, actually," Fenris said, a smile creeping over his features at the thought of Hawke. "He's come home from Starkhaven, we may see each other again." 

"Hmm," Anders nodded to himself, his brow furrowing as he twisted the needle back into place with a little more force than was necessary. "I hate to be a spoil sport, but don't get your hopes up to high about him." 

"Why not?" he snapped, stopping to pull away from his work and glare at the human in the station across from him. "It's hardly any business of yours." 

"Bull told you I was in a relationship with a ball player before. I just wanted to warn you." 

"Your warnings are not needed," Fenris defended. "Your romantic mishaps can't predict mine." 

The client in Fenris's chair shifted, taking an earbud out with their free hand. "Is something wrong?" they asked with polite concern, noting that Fenris had stopped his work on their tattoo. 

"No," he said shortly, but forcing a smile toward the client in his chair. "I'll be finished soon." 

When the clients earbuds were back in, Anders spoke again. "I was only expressing friendly concern, Fenris. You don't have to be so hostile." 

"Thank you, but it's not _needed_ ," the elf insisted, talking more softly now. "I have Bull's disapproval. I don't need more." 

When the tattoo on the client's arm was completed, Fenris took his check and bid them good day, tucking it into the back of his wallet with the others as he returned to his seat to take apart and sanitize his coil. Anders had fallen silent since then, having no further comments to make about the elf's love life. Perhaps it was the fact that he had a client of his own now, but Fenris wouldn't complain either way. He could feel his phone begin to buzz in his pocket, and he took off his gloves to answer it. 

"Hello?" he said, holding it between his shoulder and ear as he prepared the autoclave. 

"Uh, hey Fenris! This is Hawke, uh... Garrett Hawke," the other voice answered. Fenris was a bit surprised, his voice sounded a lot different over the phone. "Are you doing anything tonight?" 

"I... no," he cleared his throat, a million different thoughts swimming around his mind. He nearly dropped his coil on the floor. "Not that I was aware of." 

"Can I pick you up after you're done at work, maybe? I... really want to see you." He can hear Hawke laughing nervously on the other end. 

"What will we do?" He inquired, leaning against the table, twirling the needle between gloved fingers. 

"Go to my house, watch a movie, maybe? I don't want to leave Buddy home alone again while I can, he gets really depressed when I leave." 

 _His_ house? Maker... was he _ready_ for this? He pondered this for a moment, staring at his own reflection in the metal rolling table. Yes. Yes, he _was_ ready for this. They'd been texting for two to three weeks, there was no harm in Fenris going to his house. No harm whatsoever. "Alright, that's fine," he answered finally. "I'll let Bull know." 

"I'll-... oh, wait, really? I sort of expected you to say 'no', but I'm definitely not complaining, either," Hawke gives another awkward chuckle. "Uh, would you prefer Fast and Furious or Transformers?" 

Fenris had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing at that. Was this man serious? Was... was that the sort of movies that Hawke enjoyed? Maker preserve him. "I... neither, if that's alright," he said lightly, hardly able to contain his giggles. "I don't particularly enjoy 'action' movies."

"Oh, okay," Hawke said, sounding a little disappointed. "Well, I have a bunch of other kinds of movies too. You can pick once we get here, if that's alright?"

"It's... wonderful," he said, instantly regretting it. That sounded way too sappy, more sappy than he'd intended it to sound. "I'll see you at 5, Hawke, when my shift ends." 

"See you then, Fenris." 

As Hawke hung up and Fenris put his phone away, he could feel Anders' glare boring holes in his back. He consciously decided not to acknowledge it, thinking that the man would get out of this funk he was in eventually. Perhaps something terrible had happened with that ball player Bull mentioned, something that could have potentially traumatized Anders. Was he... jealous of Fenris? Because he had something that Anders had no longer? No, that was a stretch. Anders was simply worried for him, as all his other friends in the shop were. It had been a while since Fenris was with anyone, and Isabela was some one that everybody already knew. Hawke was a stranger, a potential danger. He couldn't help but understand. 

The rest of his shift went by slowly, but thankfully Anders came to a close before his own. Merrill came in after him, and the two of them chatted about material things as they worked. Merrill wasn't a person for deep conversation, but she was supportive and kind to everyone without limits. At least she didn't have anything negative to say, it really helped him take his mind off of the more stressful things. 

When he clocked out, he called Bull and told him not to come pick him up because Hawke was taking him out on a date. He didn't mention that they were going to Hawke's house, because Bull would've likely had a fit about that. He could bed who ever he pleased within an hour of meeting them, but Maker forbid that Fenris consider it with a man he's known for several weeks now. He meant well, he knew it, but that didn't make it any less annoying. Bull picked up on it though, he knew that the elf wasn't telling him everything and continued to prod him relentlessly. 

Eventually, he caved and told Bull that they were going to his house, waiting for Bull to scold him and demand that he come home as though he were the elf's father. Instead, there was a brief silence, followed by Bull making a small sound of thought. "Are you staying there over night?" he asked, his tone surprisingly calm. 

"I don't know," Fenris answered honestly. "I'll just see what happens, I suppose." 

"Mhm. Well, I can deal with you punching me as you wake up every here and there, but I'm not sure if he'll be as tolerant." 

Fenris laughed a little at that, but the statement did little to settle his rising nerves. "I'll be fine, Bull. I'm an adult." 

"Yeah you are," Bull said, almost mockingly. "Go get him, tiger. Make me proud." 

Before Fenris could say anything else, he saw a familiar car pull in and park on the curb outside of Lowtown. A bearded man with a goofy smile waved to Fenris from the driver-side window and Fenris shyly waved back. "I have to go," he said absently, barely listening to Bull's departure as he hung up the phone and tucked it back in his pocket. He briefly looked over what he was wearing, just his uniform which consisted of skinny jeans and the Lowtown t-shirt. He supposed it would have to do, he didn't have much choice otherwise. 

As he walked out the door, Hawke clumsily jumped from the driver's seat to run around the car and pull open the passenger door for Fenris. The elf chuckled, unable to contain his smile at the sight. "Hello again, Hawke," he greeted as he moved around him to climb into his seat. "Thanks." 

"Hey," Hawke said, grinning from ear to ear at Fenris. "and I'm a gentleman, did you forget?" 

"I suppose I _had_ forgotten," Fenris admitted. Hawke laughed and closed the door, moving into his own seat and starting the car. He seemed to happy to see Fenris, and so excited. It seemed to rub off on him somehow, the very presence of Hawke beside him gave him goosebumps. They made small talk on the way to his house, talking about each other's days and things like that. It made him feel better that Hawke wasn't dressed particularly nice either. He was just wearing a t-shirt and some basketball shorts, but the man could look good in practically anything. 

Eventually, Hawke pulled his car into the driveway of a house that made Fenris's heart plummet into his stomach. The concrete steps were flanked by tiered flowerbeds that lead all the way around the house's wrap around porch. The siding and framework was stark white, more pure than fresh snow. The many windows were lit up orange from the light inside, and in a way it sort of reminded him of an old Fereldan farm house but obviously a much... much nicer version. He was surprised that the front lawn didn't have a fountain. Hawke must have caught him gawking, because he was out of the car and opening the elf's door before he even realized that the other man had moved. 

"Thanks, again," Fenris said as he climbed out, trying not to stare at the house, opting to stare at Hawke instead. Maker, was he sure about this? He'd only walked by houses this nice in Tevinter, always looking up and wondering what it might be like to live like that someday. He never thought he'd go inside one, nevertheless in the company of a man like Hawke. 

"Sure," Hawke smiled. "Come on inside, I ordered some pizza, if that's okay? I didn't feel like cooking, and I wasn't about to ask you to do it." 

"It's fine," he assured the other. Hawke lead him inside, and he was instantly greeted by the biggest dog he'd ever seen. It tackled him on sight, sniffing him from head to toe before attacking him with sloppy wet kisses. He cried out, trying to get the dog away from him. He could hear Hawke laughing from somewhere else in the room, before the massive weight was eventually lifted off of him and he was finally able to stand. 

"Sorry, Buddy really likes new people," Hawke chuckled. "Are you okay?" 

He was wiping the drool from his cheeks, trying to recover from what had just happened to him. Still, he nodded. "He is... a big dog." 

"Yeah, have you never seen a Mabari? Usually they're only in Fereldan." 

"Heard of them, never met one," Fenris looked reluctantly back at the dog that Hawke was kneeling next to, fingers wrapped tightly around the collar. He crouched before them, reaching out to run his hand over the dog's forehead and behind it's pointy ears. Buddy barked happily, pressing into the touch- tail wagging so violently that it seemed to shake his whole body. "Their wrath is terrible indeed." 

"Buddy is as far from dangerous as a flower," Hawke said. "He just drools a little more than most, that's all." 

It wasn't long before they settled in, each grabbing some of the pizza and bringing it into the living room area. Fenris was a little relieved when he noticed that the house was no less organized than his own, clothes and such strewn in corners, books and movies organized by being put into general piles with no real order to them. It was a big house, true, and the ceiling was tall enough that not even Bull would be able to reach up and touch it, but it felt... natural. It would be hard to believe that some one as wealthy and famous as Hawke would live in a place like this just by judging the inside of it. They went through the pile of movies, and eventually they settled on a romantic comedy with an interesting cover. Fenris didn't care so long as there were no explosions or car chases, and Hawke seemed content just to have Fenris _there_. 

They chatted absently as the movie began, sitting beside each other but not really touching too much. Hawke must have decided now was his moment to make a move, because he wound his arm around the elf's shoulders, trying to seem as casual as possible about it with pizza sauce peppered in his beard. He shook his head, reaching over with one of the napkins that he'd brought over to clean the mess from the human's face. Hawke blushed and thanked him, but didn't move his arm from where he'd placed it. Fenris didn't mind, he enjoyed it, actually. He didn't think he would, as a person who couldn't stand being touched. Hawke's was... inviting though, safe and warm. 

Silence fell over both of them, watching the movie as Fenris slowly began to lean more against Hawke, allowing himself to be enveloped in the warmth and oaky scent of the other man. They made snide comments about the cliches in every scene, the unoriginal romantic tropes. Hawke laughed to himself, but his grin suddenly faded and his expression became uncharacteristically grim. 

"I... never told you, but in Starkhaven, I-... got into a bit of trouble. You could say," Hawke said, changing the topic abruptly. "I was on my way to go see a friend on the other team after the game was over, and this guy pulled me off to the side, tackled me. I was a lot bigger, so it wasn't hard for me to fight back, but some of the things he said..." he paused, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Fenris, I... I get the feeling that there's something more to what happened in that parking lot than I know about. Like, a lot more." 

Fenris was stunned by this, staring slack jawed at Hawke as if he was waiting for him to chuckle and deliver a punch line, but there was none. Hawke wasn't joking. The other man must have felt him stiffen at the words because Hawke grabbed the remote to pause the movie, untangling himself from the other to look at him in the eyes. "Fenris..." he began, but the elf shook his head, avoiding his gaze. 

"I... I'm sorry. I had no idea that this... that..." he wasn't sure how to say it. "I'm sorry," he repeated instead. 

"That _what,_ Fenris?" 

"It is a very long, complicated story," he sighed. "I... You saved my life, and for that I owe you. It is a debt I have yet to repay. Now, I have selfishly gotten you involved in my own bad situation. I don't want to bring this on you." 

"It's not your choice," Hawke said, his tone level and unwavering. "I like you, Fenris. If we're going to keep seeing each other, if this is going to become something serious, I have to know what's going on." 

"So you can decide whether or not this is something you still wish to pursue? A relationship with me?" he asked. 

"I'll pursue it no matter what, if you'll allow me. I just can't be in the dark." Fenris blushed ripe at that, and he could feel Hawke's golden eyes still trained intently on him. "Fenris, you could tell me that you're the ex-over lord of the Antivan mafia and I still wouldn't look at you any differently," he continued, this statement pulling a laugh from the elf. 

He hesitated for a moment, but Hawke clearly wasn't going to relent until Fenris told him everything. What did he have to lose? This was some he was supposed to trust, right? He had a right to know. "Well, firstly," Fenris began, clearing his throat. "In the parking lot, those men I encountered weren't trying to 'mug' me. They were bounty hunters, hired likely by a man named Danarius." 

"Bounty hunters?" 

"It..." Fenris paused. "It'll make sense if I start from the beginning." 

And, just like that, he laid out the entire story for Hawke. How he was born in the slums of Minrathous, and that his father was murdered not long before. Fenris was originally named Leto, after him. He grew up only with his mother and his older sister. Putting food on the table had always been a struggle for them, and his mother was reduced to selling herself in order to keep them fed and in school. So, when Fenris was eighteen years old and the Magisterium evicted them of their home and left his family on the streets, he had no choice but to make it up to his mother some how.

He got involved with the cultist thugs who ran those parts of Tevinter, dealing lyrium to and between every single one of them. They believed that it made them as powerful as gods or something like that... but that wasn't Fenris's concern. He was only in it for the money, coming back to his family each day with arms full of food- telling them that he'd found a job at one of the local grocery stores. His mother must've known it was a lie, she had to, but she did nothing about it. 

The chief of police in Minrathous was a man named Danarius, a known lyrium addict himself. Most of the powerful people in Tevinter were, and that's just the way it was. Even now, it was still like that. Danarius knew about Fenris and the 'work' he did, and intended to groom him for his own purposes, for his own profit.

He approached Fenris when he'd recently abandoned the trade, trying to clean himself up, go to college, make something of himself. He'd gotten baseball scholarships because of his pitching abilities, and he intended to do proud by his family and get a degree. The officer offered Fenris a job as a drug runner for himself and a few of the major political powers in the Magisterium who supplied a demand for the stuff. He offered to protect Fenris, and Fenris's family, from any harm or poverty that would otherwise come to them, if he took the job. 

His family was homeless, and this was something Fenris considered himself to be good at. If he wanted them off the streets quickly, with a roof over their heads, what other offer was there for him to take? He had no choice. Danarius has manipulated his need, his weakness, to exploit him. Of course he accepted, he would have been an idiot not to. However, if he had known what accepting that offer would entail, he would have never even listened to anything Danarius had to say in the first place. 

Through Danarius, Fenris was, for the first time, able to see the true colors of Tevinter. Cultists weren't just thugs taking money from your pockets when you walked around on the wrong side of town, they ran everything, and had influence on everyone. Even the Magesterium, their power too was influenced by the drug rings and their opinions swayed with promises of cash, women, and lyrium. It was twisted, sick, and Fenris had sold himself right into the middle without even knowing it. 

Danarius had kept his promise, however. His family was given a home and never again had to worry about food or finding a warm bed to sleep in that wasn't already occupied by insects or disease. He gave Fenris a car, and he became rather known among his clients. Not just for selling and distributing lyrium discretely and out of view of the public eye, but for his urgent work ethic and sense of business. He, also, became an enforcer of the rules of these rings. If some one threatened to blackmail another elitist member of the ring, Fenris was to twist their ear, scare the piss out of them in order to shut them up. This was what had earned him the nickname from Danarius, 'little wolf'. 

Things wouldn't always be roses and sunshine, though. Eventually, Fenris's orders from his superiors became more forward, and more violent. He had been promoted from simple intimidation to complicated rituals of torture, intended to brainwash victims to remain a member of the ring or to remain loyal to it's members despite morality demanding otherwise. Fenris refused to go through with it, and said that it was absolutely inhumane. Danarius threatened him, and said that if he didn't do as he was told, his family would be back in the slums where they'd been found. 

So, Fenris caved, but instead of obeying he released the intended victim while his overseer's head had been turned. Danarius caught that, of course, and that act of rebellion was something that monstrous man was going to make him regret. When he'd came home, the other enforcers from the ring were at his house. His mother, dead, his sister close to it. The doctors were able to save her, but for Fenris this the realization of the true weight of the chains he wore, that his family wore, because of his actions. Danarius was not going to let the elf out from under his thumb, and was willing to do anything to keep him there. 

Fenris approached Danarius, saying that he wished to end the deal made between them, even if it meant that he and his sister would return to homelessness. Danarius would hear none of it, his second best enforcer, a woman named Hadriana, tortured Fenris and played with his mind. Fenris escaped, but this freedom from the ring did not free him from what Hadriana had done to his head.

He'd passed out on the side of the road somewhere, and a Qunari family living just outside of Minrathous had found him and took him in. They nursed him back to health, and never for a second judged him for his past or the things that had happened to him. They knew how an elf had to survive in Tevinter, they knew about the horrible things that occured behind closed doors. He came to respect them, though he would always feel inferior. He never felt like he truly belonged with them. 

When Danarius returned, and had found him again, it seemed inevitable. He would be drug back to the house, the 'cage' Danarius had given him and back to the life he desperately wished to abandon. Everything after that was fuzzy, empty spaces in his memories, but he remembered that one moment the Qunari family was alive, and the next moment they were dead. As the cheif of police of Minrathous, Danarius took Fenris into custody and charged him with 6 counts of third degree murder. They went to court, and Fenris was sentenced to over thirty years in prison. 

At first, Fenris saw _this_ as his escape, but he'd been wrong. Danarius quit being the chief of police just to be a CO at that prison, to haunt the elf for the rest of his days. Fenris's only comfort, only solace in what could essentially have been a living hell, was his new found friend Hisraad. Hisraad had been involved in the rings like Fenris had, but his role was more or less like that of a spy or a negotiator than a hired fist. Both having a strong hatred for that life and Tevinter in general, they became inspired to plan their escape. 

After changing their identities, they caught Anso dealing lyrium in Kirkwall and agreed to keep his secret if he gave both of them jobs at Lowtown, and thus is the tale. Fenris hadn't seen or heard from Danarius since they arrived in Kirkwall, not until the parking lot incident. He imagined that the bounty hunters wearing masks was meant as a tribute to one of the cults. Fenris didn't know, he merely sold them lyrium and nothing more. However, Danarius was the mastermind behind it no doubt, and that scared him to his very core. 

"Tevinter is a fucked up place," Fenris concluded as he brought his story to it's end, allowing himself to sink down into the couch cushions. 

"I had a Tevinter friend who had mentioned stuff about cults and drug rings before, but nothing like this," Hawke shook his head, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. "That... that's some kind of shit you would see in a movie, or something. Not have actually happen to you." 

"It's real, as much as I wish it wasn't," the elf sighed. 

"Did he ever touch you? Danarius?" Hawke asked, leaning a little bit closer to the other.

Fenris paused on this, biting his lip. "I-... once, when I still worked in the ring. It was part of the reason why I wanted to leave so badly. This was... before what they did to mother, of course," he said. "In prison, it happened again. When I became friends with Hisraad, though, he protected me. He wouldn't let anyone come near me with a ten-foot pole. He... still sort of acts like that now." He forced a laugh. 

"Oh, right, Bull," Hawke nodded absently, though rage burned deeply inside of him at the thought of anyone hurting Fenris. If he met this man, if he ever saw his face, he was going to destroy him. "But.. I-... Fenris, I swear that I-" 

"Don't," Fenris interrupted, meeting his gaze with pleading eyes. "Now you know, so let's... let's not talk about this again. Ever. If we're going to be together, I... I can't. I have to live forward." 

"I... I could... talk about what happened to my mother, if it helps you," Hawke offered shyly. 

Fenris shook his head. "Another day, not today. May we... finish this movie? Pretend that we never had this conversation? Please?" 

"What if something else happens? Am I supposed to shrug it off, just ignore it?"

"I'll think of something, but please, Hawke. I'm done with this conversation. Just... Just turn the movie back on, hold me, and we can keep joking about that man's hair cut, alright? That would make me feel better."

Hawke couldn't help but smile a little at that. "Does... that mean that we're official? That we're... together?" 

"Yes, if it will make you stop talking," the elf grunted, leaning up against the larger man as he reached for the remote, pressing play. Hawke snatched it from his hands though, pushing pause again and enjoying the sound of frustration that came from the elf. " _Hawke_."

"Fenris, I promise you won't regret this," the other man says with this endless, lopsided grin. "I'll be the best boyfriend ever." 

"Then give me the remote," Fenris snatched it back from him and huffed, failing to conceal the smile that had begun to curl at the corners of his lips. "and let's please finish this movie before I lose any more of my sanity." 

Hawke's eyes never left the elf's face, even as he turned his attention back to the movie at hand. He leaned in, pressing his lips to his cheek and winding his arm around the other's waist. Fenris didn't say anything, he didn't have to, he only leaned back into the other's touch and rest his head against Hawke's shoulder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys let me know if Fenris's backstory seems at all crazy/ridiculous or cheesy??? When building this world I imagined Tevinter as a fucked up crime filled place, like in DA canon, but with more modern types of crime I.E. gang like activity and drug rings. These are real things that happen, I know, but I don't often do modern kinds of AUs so I'm very insecure about this chapter. If you liked it and you still want to read more after reading this, please comment!! I need to hear that you guys liked it. If you didn't, how should I fix it? Please tell me, I need advice desperately. This is not my writing area of experise and in my opinion this chapter is a total wreck. Please forgive me for it ; n ; I'll still be posting more in days/weeks to come, don't worry, but PLEASE give me feedback! I need it now more than ever.


	5. Be Tender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After reading it a few times over and changing things, I'm a lot happier with the last chapter. I hope you guys liked it too! If you are enjoying this work, please leave a comment telling me what you think: nothing motivates me more than your feedback c:
> 
> Below is an IRL headcanon of Hawke that I found, so enjoy ;v; (his name is Taylor Kinney, if you're interested!)

_**“** Just when you think it can't get any worse, it can. And just when you think it can't get any better, it can. **”**_

― Nicholas Sparks

 

Boyfriends... Fenris said that was what they were. He hadn't been able to shake the words from his mind since the elf spoke them, in that deep, gravelly voice of his that made Hawke's heart beat off course every time he heard it. Fenris had agreed to stay a while longer, making up excuses rather than admitting that he simply wanted to remain in the other man's presence, as he had. 

"You said that movie had... a sequel?" Fenris had asked several minutes after the credits had already begun rolling, sitting up so that he wasn't leaning on the human so heavily. 

"Yep, right there in the pile, see it? 'Hard In Hightown II: The Hammering'." 

The elf smiled a little, and chuckled as he stood up to retrieve it, admiring the couple on the cover for a moment. "I may stay a little longer... I- j-just to see if this sequel is worse than the original. If that's alright." 

"Stay as long as you want, Fenris," Garrett assured him. He only nodded, kneeling to put the movie in before hesitantly returning to the couch at the Champion's side. "Wait, can I ask you something?" 

Fenris looked at him, puzzled. "I-... yes. Of course." 

"You don't remember any incidents where I... might have come to Lowtown, before we actually met?" 

He narrowed his eyes, even more confused now. "No, and if you had, I'm sure I wouldn't have forgotten." 

"Right, but what if you didn't recognize me? and I was... really, really drunk?" 

The elf's face fell. "The 'Andraste's Ass Cheek' guy? That was _you?_ " 

Hawke puts on his signature, goofy grin. "In the flesh." 

Maker, how Hawke cherished the sound of that man's laughter. It was so light, free, and... happy. To know that he was able to evoke such joy and happiness out of someone like him, well, he could have died right then and have absolutely no regrets at all. 

"I'll have to tell Isabela at work tomorrow. I owe her twenty dollars, now," he said. 

"Isabela? A friend of yours?" 

"My first in Kirkwall. She's... something, that's for sure. You'd have to meet her, sometime." 

"And you'll have to meet Varric," Hawke suggested with a smirk. "I'd also like to be re-introduced to Bull, when he doesn't have the intent to kill me, maybe." 

Fenris laughed again at that. "That can be arranged, I'm sure." 

They fell into a comfortable silence again as the movie began, and Fenris had fallen asleep in Hawke's lap by the middle of it. He was tempted to leave him there, to carry him into one of the guest bedrooms and leave him there to sleep for the night instead of bothering to take him home. He felt like that would be ill-recieved, however, not only from Fenris but from his roommate as well. He grabbed his car keys, gently standing as not to wake the elf, only to realize he'd completely forgotten where the man even lived. He couldn't just... drive around and hope to find a place that looked familiar, could he? No, that was definitely a bad idea. 

Instead, he carefully returned to the couch, pulling the elf's phone from his pocket as carefully as he could. He would call Bull, and ask for directions. That was all he could do, and perhaps Bull would appreciate Hawke asking? The phone was unlocked, to his relief, but as Fenris shifted in his sleep he felt a twinge of guilt, as if he was invading the other man's privacy. _'You're not snooping through his messages, or his camera roll,'_ he told himself. _'You're just getting Bull's phone number.'_

Yet, as he chastised himself for it, he found himself doing that very thing anyways. There wasn't much to see, some older pictures of him taking progress shots of the tattoos he did on himself, but there were lots of pictures of other people as well. People who had snatched his phone to take selfies, presumably, just for the purpose of annoying him. There was a picture of a woman with big, golden earrings and a lip piercing posing with a blond man who smirked up at the camera, a single gold earring perking out of one of his ears. Work friends, maybe? There was also another elven girl, she had these pretty face tattoos and bold green eyes. Was this his life? It... made him a little happy, actually. He wanted to meet these people, to get to know them, and get to know Fenris even better while doing so. 

He eventually closed out of the camera and opened up his contacts, Bull's name was easy to find. There was even an ICE before his name, 'In Case Of Emergency'. This could be an emergency, right? Sort of? 

Hawke tapped the number and copied it onto his own phone, setting Fenris's phone on the side table as he held his own to his ear, the dial tone playing. Bull answered quickly, and Andraste, did he sound three times more intimidating over the phone. 

"The Iron Bull," he answered, sounding like he'd just woken up. Which was fair enough, it was a little past midnight, after all. 

"Uh, hiya! This is Hawke, uh... Garrett Hawke?" 

Bull hummed at that. And he almost sounded... amused? Or was that irritated? He couldn't really decipher which. "Yeah? What do you need from me? Wait... should I be concerned?" His voice lowered at that last note, and it sent chills down Hawke's spine. 

"No! No no no no, not concerned at all. I promise." 

"Uhuh, so lay it on me."  

"Right, uh, Fenris sort of fell asleep, and I don't want to leave him here because I'm not sure he wanted to stay here over night. I would drive him back to the apartment, but I don't exactly remember where that is." He forced a laugh to try to sound casual, it only exposed how nervous he actually was about making this phone call. 

"Really? Huh. Doesn't sound like the big guy to let his guard down like that. What'd you do?" 

Hawke could feel the panic starting to set in. "Nothing! I swear-... we just watched movies and talked. He... talked to me about his past, and how you know each other and all that. I think he wants to make things official." 

Bull makes another noise of acknowledgement that Hawke can't really put a finger on. "Sounds like it, if he opened up to you about all that. Listen, I'll come pick him up and get him, don't worry about it. I don't want you waking him up on accident, it's... not pretty." 

"Wait, what do you mean?" 

"What's your address, kid?" 

"I-... Hightown, the big white house at the south end of 6th." 

"Got it, see you in a few." 

Hawke huffed and returned to the couch, even more careful not to wake Fenris after what Bull had said to him. What did he even mean by that? Hawke could handle a little bit of grouchiness, he lived with Carver after all. Iron Bull arrived within about ten minutes or so, he could tell because the sound of the truck alone was enough to wake the entire neighborhood. He sprang to his feet to go outside and greet him, but the man was already waiting in the doorway with his big, grey arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and the pants he had on weren't even buttoned properly. He'd clearly just sprung out of bed, and Hawke felt even more guilty. The eye patch was even hap-haphazardly put on, it was crooked and everything. 

"Nice place you got," the qunari said, taking in the view. "That up there, you used to have a chandelier?" He gestures to the hook up on the ceiling and his heart sinks. Damn, he was really, _really_ observant.

"I... normally do, it was my mothers, otherwise I wouldn't keep one at all," Hawke admitted. "I took it down and my sister helped me trash the place. I didn't want my house to... intimidate him." 

"Good thinking, I like that." Bull clasps the other man on the shoulder and smiles. "Where's he at?" 

"On the couch," Hawke gestures. Buddy who was sleeping on the carpet, looked up at the sound of Bull's voice and trotted happily over, wagging his tail and barking in greeting. Hawke quickly shushed him, grabbing him by the collar. "Shhh! Fenris is sleeping, Buddy, that's rude."

"A mabari, huh? Nice." Bull commented as he wandered past, scooping Fenris up off of the couch with ease, as if he weighed hardly more than a bag of potatoes. "Listen, thanks for calling me. But, you hurt him, champ, and I'll rip you a new asshole. Got it?"

Hawke swallowed, offering a nervous smile. "Got it." 

"Good, glad we understand each other," Bull winked at him as he headed towards the door, ducking a little to get his horns through. "Also, if Fen finds out you snooped through his phone to get my number, he'll be pissed. I can cover for you, but you owe me an autograph." 

"Oh- how did you-... Nevermind. I can do that." 

"Good, just let me find something for you to sign so I can sell it online and get a nicer apartment for me and tiger here while I'm at it," he nods to the sleeping elf in his arms. "See you around, champ." 

And with that, the qunari was gone. Hawke slept easier that night than he had since his mother died, so for the first time in.. over two years now, almost. Even after all that, he'd forgotten to ask Fenris about the MLB dinner. That was supposed to be one of the reasons why he had him over in the first place!

He mentally slapped himself for forgetting, but  thankfully, some one had conveniently sent him a good morning text. He noticed the message when he woke up, and nearly squealed with excitement.

_**FENRIS:** Morning, Hawke. _

_**FENRIS:** Listen, are you available? I have the day off today, and I would like to talk some more. If that's alright. _

Hawke didn't hesitate to text him back, sitting up in his bed now. 

_**HAWKE:** good morning!!! : ) _

_**HAWKE:** I'm available today and tomorrow before we have another game, what did you have in mind??_

_**FENRIS:** I frequent at a coffee shop near Lowtown, meet me there?_

Attached is the address to the place that he mentioned, which tells Hawke that what he wants to talk about must be pretty serious. He saves it to his phone, and pulls himself out of bed to hunt for something to wear. 

_**HAWKE:** what time? _

_**FENRIS:** 7, if that's alright._

Hawke looked at the time, and his heart sank. It was 6:30 right now!

_**HAWKE:** sure! I won't be in my prettiest state though haha  _

_**FENRIS:** I'm sure you look handsome, as always. See you soon, Hawke. _

Thankfully, Bethany and Carver had spent the night at Varric's for Hawke's convenience, and hadn't yet returned to question where he was going. Orana had come back bright and early however, and she offered the man a smile as she proceeded to clean up the mess that Hawke and Bethany had left the day before. 

"Good morning, boss," she said. 

"Hey, Orana! And just call me Hawke, I'm your friend, not your boss," he reminded her. 

"Oh, right, sorry, b-... Hawke," she forced, and Hawke gives her a gentle pat on the back. 

"There you go! I'm going to get coffee, don't worry about this mess. Consider it... redecorating." 

Orana's face fell at that. "You want to... keep it like this?" 

"Just for now, I'm doing it for... someone special." 

"Someone special likes your house _dirty?"_  

"Don't look at it as 'dirty', Orana, look at it as... 'casual'." 

The elven maid just sighs at that and shakes her head. "You never make any sense to me, Hawke. But, it's as you say, I guess." 

"Did you enjoy your night off?" he asks as he grabs his keys, lazily pulling on a pair of shoes. 

"I did, I got to go spend some time with Papa. Thank you, by the way. That was... really kind." 

"Anytime, Orana," he smiled. "If you ever want to see him or need a break from work, just let me know. I have no problem giving you paid vacation days." At that, he offers a small wink. "You deserve it." 

The coffee shop Fenris talked about was really easy to find, and relatively empty considering most people would be heading to work right now. He'd think that a morning coffee would be a nice idea to most, but apparently not. However, he could see why the elf liked this place. It was cozy, and welcoming almost like a home. Fenris had been sitting at one of the empty tables, reading a book when Hawke walked in.

His face flooded with relief as he saw him, pushing himself out of his chair. "There you are," he huffed with a smile. "I worried you'd stood me up." 

Hawke gasped, mocking an offended expression. "Never," he breathed, before approaching the elf and shyly leaning in to take his hand. Was that okay? Were they at that stage yet? Then, Fenris responded to the touch by leaning in and placing a kiss on the taller man's cheek, bringing a deep blush out of him.

Afterward, he quickly ushered them to the counter where Fenris ordered his usual flat white, and Hawke his mocha iced coffee with extra pumps of chocolate syrup. Both satisfied with their drinks, they chose a small booth beside one of the windows. Leaning with their elbows on the table, like teenagers in puppy love trying to be as close to one another as possible. 

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Hawke asked, scratching at his beard with his free hand. Suddenly, he was struck with a surge of panic. "Are you... having second thoughts?" 

Fenris chuckled, the deep rumble causing a fuzzy stir in Hawke's chest. "No, I'm not," he said, still smirking. "It's that last night I laid out my entire lifestory for you. And... I don't know yours." 

"My life story?" Hawke choked on his drink, some sputtering out as he spoke, droplets clinging to his facial hair. "I-... It's not all _that_ interesting." 

"I don't care," the elf persisted, reaching between them and wiping the mess away from Hawke's lip with his thumb. "I want to know. If you want to have this relationship, that is. If not, I will happily walk out the door." 

"Happily?" the man's face fell. 

"Not happily," Fenris corrected. "but happier than I would be if I let you in, only to discover you didn't deserve to be there." 

"Right, right," Hawke nodded, clearing his throat as his eyes averted to the table. "I... uh, well, I was born in Fereldan. You probably knew that already, though. Uhm, my father was a baseball player too. Not as popular or anything, but still good. Better, in my opinion." 

"He gave that all up when he met my mom though, she came from a really rich family of doctors and lawyers and stuff so he picked up a new career to impress them. They got married, had me, then Carver and Bethany..." 

"Your father abandonned his life for her?" Fenris asked. 

"Yeah, he really loved her, I guess, but honestly I... I don't really see why," Hawke snorted with disinterest. 

"Mom was a bitch. Every time she was sad or angry, she took it out on one of us and blamed us for it as if everything was our fault. Me, especially. I was her punching bag, above all," he explained. "It wasn't always bad though, she encouraged me for doing baseball and said that she was proud of me. I thought things would finally get better, that she would change."

"And then dad got in a car wreck on the way to my championship game, he died instantly," he paused at this, grip tightening on his plastic cup and making it crinkle. "She blamed me, said that if I'd never joined the league dad would be alive. That grudge got even worse when I came to Kirkwall." 

"Like, a year later, she started seeing this... Tevinter guy. She was so happy. Things were better than they'd ever been and she was actually nice to me. She apologized for how she treated me and promised to try and change."

"What happened, then?" Fenris prodded, patient and listening, his eyes never leaving the man before him. 

"The guy was... a psychopath. Apparently he'd been killing tons of other women all over Kirkwall and no one thought to warn anybody about it. A bouquet of white lillies was sitting on my coffee table and my mother was gone. When I couldn't find her anywhere, I called the cops," he bit his lip, nearly drawing blood. "What he did to her... it was some 'Silence Of The Lambs' kind of shit, like straight out of a fucking horror movie. It was unreal. I was waiting to wake up from a nightmare until I realized that I never would because everything that was happening was real..."

"I was the only one who saw the photos from the crime scene, I wouldn't let them show any to Carver or Bethany. After that, I would have been content to lock myself in my house and never leave. It really fucked me up. I didn't go out anywhere aside from baseball games during the season and the occasional family dinner with Varric whenever I came home. That was it, no dates, no meeting new people, no going new places. Like... for two whole years," he shook his head. "How could I, yknow? What if some shit like that happened to me? And then Bethany was all 'You're thirty years old! You need to get married!' It was like she didn't get it." 

Fenris had reached between them to grip the other man's arm, carressing him with surprising care and gentleness. "I'm sorry. I... don't know what to say." 

"You asked," Hawke reminded with a slight smile. "At least you aren't the only one who went through some messed up shit, huh?" 

"I must admit, I feel a lot better knowing this about you," he said. "I feel ready, like I'm not rushing into something I'm not prepared for." 

"I can be a lot to handle," Hawke teased. "You might get overwhelmed." 

"You're a handsome man, Hawke," he said, smirk returning to his lips. "and charming, hilarious, adventurous, among other things. You've stood up for me and saved my life when you didn't know me. And now that you do, you haven't run. I don't deserve it, but I'm willing to give a relationship a try if you are." 

"You do deserve it, Fenris," Hawke laces his fingers through the elf's, coffee forgotten. "And I'm willing to try anything if somebody asks me nicely." 

"Well," Fenris leans forward, narrowing his eyes playfully. " _I'm_ asking nicely."

"Then I'll go for it, but you don't _always_ have to ask nicely when you want something from me," he winks. 

"Another time, maybe," Fenris concludes as he starts to rise from his seat, but Hawke stops him. 

"Wait," Hawke squeaks, clutching the elf's arm. "I have to ask you something." 

"Yes?"

"The major league boys are having this big fancy dinner in Hightown, we have one every year. I can bring as many people with me as I want, so I wanted to invite you, and maybe your friends from work too," he said a little bit too quickly. "If you want to come, that is." 

Fenris stares at him blanky for a moment, gears in his mind visibly turning. "Bull's welcome to come?"

"Ofcourse!" 

He pursed his lips, looking past the human in thought. "Alright, I'll go. It'd be a good opportunity for my friends to meet you." 

"So, another date?" Hawke pryed, his goofy smile reappearing. 

"Yes, another date." 

 

* * *

 

Merrill gasped, her eyes lighting up like stars. "We get to go to a _celebrity_ party? That's so exciting!" 

Isabela looked equally pleased at the news, grinning from ear to ear. "So, Fenris, does that mean you're _official_?" she teased. 

"I guess," he shrugged, playing off the smile that he felt coming. "It's no big deal." 

Bull chuckled from where he sat in Fenris's chair. He wasn't on the clock, but it was lunch break. They closed the place down from 12-1 for that. It was just the normal crew, plus Bull and Krem, who weren't having much business at the store today. "If you say so, tiger," Bull cooed, and Fenris shook his head. 

"So... you'll come, right?" Fenris prodded, looking around the group.

"How many people can this guy even take?" Krem snorted. "I'll stay back, and watch the apartment. I'm not interested in any suit and tie shit, no offense."

"Bethany, Carver, and Varric, already have invites," Fenris began. "and Hawke can bring as many people as can fit in a car."

"We don't know _any_ of those people," Merrill noted. "Only you do." 

"I know _Hawke_ ," Fenris clarified. "This is as new for me as it is for you." 

Isabela pinched Merrill's arm, earning a yelp from the elven girl. "Come on, kitten, when are we gonna get a chance like this again?" She turns back towards Fenris and smiles. "Of course we'll come, sweetheart." 

"What about Anders?" Merrill squeaked, looking to the blond haired man in the back who was notably silent for the entire conversation. 

"I'm good," Anders assured softly, not paying attention to them as he cleaned his station. "Go on without me." 

"Are you sure, Justice?" Bull asked, though the nickname came out with more concern than jest. 

Anders nodded, not looking up from his work. "Too many old memories, you understand. It's not personal." 

Fenris frowned at that, but decided to bite back the spiteful comments he felt rising in the back of his throat. He looked among his little group of friends, and at the sight of them he couldn't help but grin. "Thank you, this... means a lot to me," he admitted.

"Don't get all sappy on us," Isabela clicked her tongue as she stood up to wind her arm around the elf's. "Come on, we have to get you and Bull into suits." 

It was almost impossible to find a place with a suit that could accomodate Bull's size. Fenris was easy, they got something for him at the first store. Bull, however, took an entire day's worth of shopping. He supposed the search was worth it, though, because Bull looked strangely strapping in formal attire. Fenris was sure the bulking qunari wouldn't be leaving the party alone that night.

Isabela had pulled a little black dress out of the back of her closet, and Merrill did her hair up in a fancy bun with all these sparkly clips she happened to have handy. Merrill's own dress was a lot more cute and conservative, just a simple emerald green with straps that came up to wrap around her neck.

Hawke had sent him a text earlier saying that he wanted to stop by the apartment and introduce everyone before they left, and Fenris had agreed, but now he wasn't so sure. Merrill had helped him clean the place up, but was it enough? The apartment was barely big enough to fit he and Bull alone, Hawke would probably cringe just at the sight of it. Bull must have caught his anxiety because he grabbed the elf's shoulder and brushed some hair strands away; offering a smile. 

"Relax, big guy," he murmured. "It's not your wedding." 

Eventually, there came a gentle rasp at the door, interrupting Fenris who had presently been re-arranging the cushions on the couches for the fourth time. He abandonned his work hastily, rushing to the door before anyone else could have a chance to answer it. Isabela had honestly never seen the elf so nervous and undone before, and she was enjoying every second of it. 

In the door way, the familiar figure of the broad-shouldered Garrett Hawke stood with a shy smile on his lips. In his hands, a small potted cactus with a bow tied neatly at the base. Fenris opened his mouth to question, but the ball player quickly interrupted. "It reminded me of you," he said hastily, pushing it towards the elf. "I wanted to get you _something,_ and you know how I feel about flowers." 

Looking up at him, Hawke looked incredibly handsome tonight. He wore a clean cut navy blue tux with a faint pattern in the fabric that you could only see if you stood very close. His hair was gelled back away from his face and his beard was trimmed proper. Fenris felt like a peasant as he took the plant in his hands and forced an endearing smile for the man. "I... thank you." 

Hawke peeked past the elf's shoulder, looking at his friends on the couches in the main room. "Can I come in? I have company," he said, gesturing to a huddle of people standing beside his car. Right, of course, his family. 

"Yes," Fenris stepped back and allowed him in. Quickly following after was a cheery woman in a deep blue dress that matched her eyes, shoulder length black hair and bold red stain on her lips. Then there was a shorter man with a much weaker chin than Hawke's though he wore an identical tux. Last was the dwarf, who was easily identifiable as Varric, the catcher. Varric's tux was open in the front and the shirt hardly buttoned at all, exposing bright ginger chest hair amongst the glitter of his golden chains and jewelry. 

"Fenris, this is my sister, Bethany. She's a florist and the vice president of the Marcher's internet marketing branch," he gestures to the woman in blue who quickly snatches Fenris by the arm and pulls him into a half hug. She's vaguely familar to him, but he doesn't bother with it now. 

"I'm so glad to meet you," Bethany cooed as she released the elf. "My brother is an ass, but if he's an ass to you, I want to be the first one you call, okay?" She gave him a wink that reminded him a lot of the way Hawke would wink, but he ignored the thought. 

"And then that's Carver, he's the team waterboy and a professional grouch," he grins at his own joke but Carver is less pleased as he nods to Fenris and grumbles a weak, 'Hey'. 

Before Hawke can introduce him, the red-haired dwarf pushed past to take Fenris's hand, giving it a good, rough shake. "Varric Tethras, at your service," he said with a grin. "It's good to finally meet you, elf, Hawke talks about you non-stop."

" _Varric_!" Hawke moaned, earning a chuckle from the dwarf. Fenris couldn't help but smile, slowly releasing the dwarf's hand. Hawke cleared his throat, stepping past to wrap an arm around Fenris's waist. "Family, this is my boyfriend, Fenris." 

"So you _are_ official," Isabela declared, a proud smirk broadening her features. "My, oh my..."

Fenris rolled his eyes, hoping that no one would see his blush. "I-... Hawke- Hawke's company, this is Isabela. There next to her is Merrill, and that's Bull over there. Or, rather, The Iron Bull. This is... my family. Sort of." 

"What kind of name is 'Iron Bull'?" Carver snorted with distaste. 

"It's not a name, junior, it's a title, and a damn good one at that." 

"It's soooo nice to meet you," Merrill cooes, rushing up to shake all of their hands. "I've never met any _famous_ people before... I'm sorry if I say something strange." 

Carver's face visibly softened at the sight of the elven girl, blushing as he took her hand. "You're fine, Merrill, don't worry." 

"I want all of us to be friends, so just be yourself," Hawke said, avoiding her hand all together and pulling her into a hug. Merrill giggles and hugs him back, smiling like a giddy little girl as she returned to her seat beside Isabela, who smiled and winked at the group of them with this shit-eating grin on her face. 

Bull nods to them, leaning his shoulder up against one of the walls. "Varric, you said, right?" he questioned. "Didn't you write that book, 'Hard In Hightown'?" 

"Yep," Varric said with a smile. "Don't credit me for the movies though, I just make the royalties." 

"Those movies were horrendous," Fenris noted with a flat tone, Hawke couldn't help but chuckle. 

"The books are actually good, I assure you," the dwarf said, casting his human companion a sharp glare. "I'm offended that Hawke thought to slander my name before we even met by associating me with those films." 

"I never mentioned your name!" 

"Whatever, Hawke, I know how it is." 

Bull laughed, shaking his head. "The books are _pretty_ good, your descriptions of combat tactics are pretty inaccurate though. And unrealistic." 

Varric put a hand over his chest, looking sincerely offended now. "I'm hurt," he pouted before his smile returned again. "However, you seem like the kind of guy who can give me the right advice on that." 

"Hah, you're not wrong." 

Fenris chuckled as well, unable to bite back his joy at the interaction. He looked back down at the cactus in his hands, admiring the sloppy purple bow. "I'm going to put this in my room, then we can leave," he said.

Hawke nodded, watching with too keen of an interest as the other man turned to go. Fenris's friend, Isabela, but have caught it because she started cackling. He then noticed a very inappropriate pinup girl tattoo on her bicep as she spoke to him. "Have fun trying to ride _that_ pony," she purred, innocently batting her eyes.

"Isabela..." Bull warned, glare testy. 

"What do you mean?" Hawke narrowed his eyes. 

"Don't worry, we can talk about it later," she concluded as she rose from her seat. "I believe we're expected at a party."

Bethany nodded and smiled. "We sure are! Some of the people there are real snobs, but if you stick with us, it'll be fun." 

"Oh, I'll bet," Isabela grinned toward he other woman, and Hawke swore he saw her wink again. Oh Maker, what sort of woman _was_ this Isabela? 

When Fenris returned, Bull finally stood up straight, easily standing half a foot above everyone else as he stretched; shoulders cracking. "Alright, so how are we splitting this up?" 

"I can fit three more in my car," Hawke said. "Bethany and Carver have Varric and that leaves two more open seats there." 

"Bull needs at least two seats," Fenris added, earning a disapproving grunt from the qunari. 

"Well, Bull and Isabela can ride with me then," Hawke concluded. "My car is a bit bigger than Bethany's. Merrill, would you be okay sitting with Varric?"

"I promise I don't bite," the dwarf assured, earning a giggle from the elf. She nods, still grinning. 

"I think I'll be alright, I tend to talk a lot though," she said.

"If it's better than anything Carver has to say, I'll listen to you talk all day."

The outburst from Carver at that was enough of a conclusion for them. Bethany swung her keys and lead her group out to her car, Varric opening the door for Merrill. Fenris had to help Bull into Hawke's car, and Isabela eagerly wiggled into the backseat beside him. Hawke opened the door for Fenris, as he always did, and he could've swore he caught the two in the back smirking. 

Fenris couldn't help but feel terribly nervous the entire way to the party, restlessly fixing his tie and readjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. Hawke reached between them when he noticed it, and took the elf's hand, stilling his fidgeting. Isabela let out an 'awwww' at that, and snickered. Fenris ignored it, of course, but  there was still a little smile. 

They finally arrived at a large building that looked sort of like a hotel, and might have even been one. It looked as though it were made purely of marble, and it shone like a star in the light of the setting sun. There were sports cars and limos parked all around, glistening in the reflection. It was breathe taking. This was definitely a rich person party, and Fenris didn't fit in one bit. But... neither did Bull, he supposed. Or Isabela. Or Merrill. 

"You alright?" Hawke asked as he got out of the car, approching Fenris carefully. "We can leave, if you want." 

"No, we can't," Fenris snorted. "but thank you for the thought."

 "C'mon, it'll be fine," Hawke cooed as he took the elf's hand again. "You have your friends here, and as long as I at least make an appearance, we can leave whenever we want." 

Fenris nodded and followed Hawke as he, Isabela, and Bull met back up with the others at the hotel entrance. A door man in a crisp white tux invited them in, a nod and a blank expression his only greeting.

There were tons of people here, easily more than he'd ever seen. None of his friends seemed to mind at all, even Merrill seemed to be in her own little element, chatting away with Varric and not seeming deterred in the slightest by the massive crowd of ball players and their rich friends. Fenris stayed extremely close to Hawke, never releasing his hand even as several people grabbed the man by the shoulder and gave him a brotherly welcome.

Eventually, they were greeted by a man in a uniquely bold colored tux with a shimmering gold tie, he smirked luridly at the pair as he approached and Hawke's just eyes lit up. 

"Dorian!" Hawke beamed, dragging Fenris over as they approached the man. He momentarily released the elf to pull the sparkly man into a hug with a hearty laugh. "It's always so good to see you." 

"You as well, Hawke," the man, Dorian, chuckled. His viper-like gaze turned to Fenris then, looking him over with keen interest. "Ah, and you must be the one that my scruffy friend picked up off of the streets. Quite a looker, you are, if I do say do myself," he extends a hand to Fenris, smirk never wavering. "Dorian Pavus, pitcher of the Tevinter Magisters but soon to be pitcher for the Kirkwall Marchers." 

Fenris looks at Hawke briefly for consolation before taking the humans hand and shaking it. "I'm Fenris... no title." 

Dorian chuckles at that, grin plastering his features. "Come, have a drink with me. I'm growing bored of all of these _pleasantries_." He gestures to the bar area on the other side of the ballroom. Hawke shrugs and agrees to go along, and Fenris gave in and decided to follow. 

He could see his friends in the crowd, Bull stuck out like a sore thumb. He'd already sat at a table with a line of players ready to arm wrestle him and prove their worth. None of them would win, except maybe the token qunari in the line. He just hoped Bull didn't overwork himself.

Isabela had seemed to take a liking to Hawke's sister. They stood together by the food bar, talking and looming closer to each other as if no one else were in the room. Fenris hoped for his friend's sake that Hawke didn't notice anything. 

Lastly, Merrill was at a larger table with Varric, Carver, and a few of the boys from the Marchers. Varric looked like he was trying to teach them a card game, or something. Merrill, of course, was over joyed about it. 

When the two sat down at the bar, Dorian didn't hesitate to sit right beside Fenris; ordering a glass of wine for him from the bartender who wore the same crisp white as the door man. "So, how do you like him? Is he treating you well? I'd certainly hope so, Hawke can't catch a man like you every time he crosses the street." 

Fenris can't help but smile a little at the other man's charm, especially with Hawke scoffing and rolling his eyes. "Thank you, Hawke is..." he paused, trying to decide on a word. "a good man." 

"I'm right here, you know." 

Ignoring him, Dorian continues. "'A good man,' he says," he shakes his head, still giggling. Suddenly, they take notice to the song that begins to play over the speakers and the couples that split away from their social groups to cluster on the dance floor. The pitcher extends a hand to the elf, looking from Hawke to Fenris with that same proud expression that practically reeks of Tevinter. "Hawke, might I steal a dance with your date? Just this once?" 

"If he's okay with it, I'm okay with it," Hawke said with a smile, and he actually seems genuine. If this person were Hawke's friend, perhaps there was nothing for Fenris to be afraid of. It would also be extremely rude for Fenris to turn a dance down now. 

"Alright," Fenris submits. "but I'm no good at this." 

"No one will notice if you're with me," Dorian assured him. "Besides, there's so much I have to ask you about." 

With his date and his best friend gone, Hawke decides to get a drink of his own, fondly watching the two of them dance. It had been a while since Hawke had a relationship like this, even longer since it lasted to a point where Dorian got to meet them. He hoped desperately that this was a good sign, he was falling for Fenris with each passing minute. 

He'd noticed the boys from the other team eyeing the two of them as they came into the party. Hawke had made no secret about his sexuality to his team or to the media; but he feared perhaps it was the fact that Fenris was an elf. Or worse, they some how recognized him as Leto. He desperately hoped that wasn't the case. To think that he might have brought Fenris here only to lead him to his captors, he couldn't live with himself. 

There was a groan of creaking wood as a familiar qunari settled into the empty seat beside him. He had a little bit of sweat forming on his temples, and he gave a pleased grunt as he chugged the wine handed to him. "Bull," Hawke greeted politely, taking a drink of his own wine. "How's the party for you?" 

"Fantastic, for a bunch of rich kids you guys aren't that bad," Bull said with a grin. "Well, except the 'vints, and the Orlesians. They're keeping a ten foot radius from me though, which I like." He gestures for the bartender to give him a larger glass, which he happily drinks in a single swig with no effort at all. "Listen, champ, remember that autograph you owe me?" 

"I-... uh, yeah." 

"I'll forget about it, if, you tell me who is that fine piece of ass that's dancing with your man," Bull said, gesturing to the two. "That the 'vint pitcher? The 'necromancer' they call him, right?" Hawke was surprised that he even refered to Fenris as _Hawke's_ man, but he didn't bother question it too much when it was clearly a gesture of good will. 

"Yeah, that's him," he stammered, looking back at Bull. "His name's Dorian, he's a really good friend of mine. He's actually joining the Marchers soon." 

"Sweet," Bull purred, licking his lips. "I get him a drink, you pay for it, and we'll be even." 

"Deal." 

When the song ends and the two recover from the dance floor, Fenris slides easily back into the seat on the other side of Hawke and Dorian pauses, gaze lingering on Bull where he sat beside the champion. "And who is this, pray tell? Another friend of yours?"

Bull narrows his eyes and smiles, his usual charm, and gestures to the open seat at his right. "Have a seat, 'vint, as much as I like the view. I'll get you a drink." He glances back to Hawke and winks, Fenris makes a disgusted noise. 

"Well, well," Dorian's eyebrows nearly fly to his hairline and his cheeks redden, but he takes a seat anyways. "It's Dorian, actually, I'd prefer it over 'vint'." 

"Bull, The _Iron_ Bull," he murmurs, leaning closer to the pitcher, elbows on the counter. "I hear you have a pretty good fastball, there... Dorian." 

"I do, and what of it?" 

Bull laughs, grinning from ear to ear. "You oughtta see mine sometime, if you've gotta mind."

Dorian snorts. "What, so you can chain me up and sew my mouth shut? Isn't that what you qunari do to 'vints'?" 

"Well, not without buying you dinner first." 

Fenris groans, pushing himself from his seat and gently tugging on his date's arm. "Can we... dance?" he asks meekly. "I don't want witness  _that_." 

Hawke looks fondly down at the elf, pushing a stray silver hair out of his eyes. Maker, he was so gorgeous. Especially in this light, it made his tattoos stand out bold like the moon against the night sky. "I thought you'd never ask." 

With Hawke's arm around his waist and some cheesy love song playing over the ballroom speakers, Fenris had never felt more... complete. He was hopeless at keeping to the beat, as much as Hawke tried to help him. He couldn't help but panic as all of the eyes in the room seemed to fall on them. What if one of them recognized Fenris? What if some one was a bounty hunter, like the ones in the parking lot, waiting for a moment to strike? Maker, this was a bad idea. He shouldn't have agreed to this. He should've asked Hawke if they could stay at his house again, and watch one of those ridiculous movies-... 

Pulling him from his thoughts, Hawke grabs the elf gently by his chin, forcing him to look him in the eyes. "Relax," he whispered, as if he knew exactly what the other man was thinking. "This is supposed to be fun. Nothing bad's gonna happen, I promise." 

Fenris looked up at him, connecting eyes with the taller man and suddenly he felt consumed by the thick, honey colored amber. He let his hands come to rest on his shoulders, a stray thumb tracing Hawke's bearded jawline. "You can't promise that," he murmurs, voice hardly above a whisper. "This hotel could catch fire. A tornado could fall from the heavens. That chandelier could collapse." 

"Is that a joke?" Hawke smiled, leaning into the touch. "and I didn't think you were capable of joking around." 

Feeling brave, the elf lets his hand fall to the other man's chest, tugging gently at his bow-tie. "I'm... capable of much more than that," he breathed, his tone lowering another note. 

The Champion looks surprised, but he doesn't seem appalled. In fact, as soon as the shock wears off, his gaze darkens considerably as he pulls the elf closer to him, hands falling lower on his back.  " _Maker,_ you're perfect," he sighed, taking the elf's lips into his own in a heated, passionate kiss. Not gentle and shy like their first, much more... aggressive, carnal. Fenris kissed back, letting his body mold against that of the other man and allowing his fingers to knot themselves in his thick black hair. "So perfect," Hawke mumbled against his lips before capturing them again. "I can't believe I got lucky enough to meet someone like you." 

Fenris blushed, not sure how to react or what to say except but to be... flattered. Extremely flattered. Here was this man, rich and famous no less, keening over him when it should be _Fenris_ keening over _him_. His heart hammered in his chest harder than it ever had before. When Hawke finally released his lips, and they pulled slightly apart, he rest his forehead against his own and let his hands come to rest just above Fenris's ass. "There are bedrooms on the next floor, and I can give Varric the keys to my car," he said, lips just against the elf's ear. "If I'm... not the only one who's thinking about that... of course," he chuckles, pulling away slightly and preparing himself for rejection. 

Fenris contemplated this for a moment, leaning into the touch. "You're not," he said finally, meeting Hawke's gaze. "How will we get home?" 

"We can call a taxi, but the others may not even be gone by then," Hawke hummed, stepping closer to the elf once more. "These parties go on till midnight, at _least_."

"Alright, Garret Hawke," Fenris pulled a few of the buttons to Hawke's shirt lose, letting his fingers slip inside and curl into the soft, dark hairs hidden beneath. He then quickly pulled away, just out of the other man's reach, and gesturing to the open doors leading out of the ballroom.  "Lead on." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 6 WILL CONTAIN EXPLICIT CONTENT, it is a DIRECT part 2 to this chapter, hence why I posted it at the same time. I won't change the rating to this story because there won't be a whole lot of explicit sexual scenes aside from this one, but just be warned that it is going to be there and yes, I will leave asterisks for where the smut begins and ends.


	6. Hard Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll put a ** where the smut begins and where it ends for you guys. I don't normally write this stuff but I felt like for this situation is was pretty unavoidable, and it would have more impact if it did. BUT I know some of you really don't like that kind of thing so, you don't have to read it if you don't want to, but forgive me if it seems choppy in that case. Anyways, enjoy!

_**"** I am my mother's child; I'll love you till my breathing stops, I'll love you till you call the cops on me. **'**_

- Ella "Lorde" Marija Lani Yelich-O'Connor

 

Hawke escorted Fenris out of the ballroom swiftly, thankfully without drawing the eyes of any of the other attendees. He tossed some money at the man at the counter, hardly pausing to thank him as he took the room key.

They didn't even make it up the stairs to the second floor, because as soon as they were out of sight, Fenris pushed Hawke up against the wall and kissed him with a new energy. Hawke grunted, grabbing the elf by the shoulder and turning them so that Fenris was against the wall instead. At that, the elf let out a satisfied noise, practically melting under the larger man's heat. 

He was so blissfully overwhelmed, and he hadn't felt this way since he was with Isabela. This was different, though. This time he didn't feel any need for hesitation, he didn't have any fear.

Fenris ground his hips forward, pleased with the groan he managed to pull out of the other man. Hawke took a hold of the elf's ass then, gentle bites travelling from the base of his neck up to his sensitive ears. "I think we should stop," he whispered, tone playful. "I don't think this is a good idea." 

"Damn you," the elf huffed, knees buckling as Hawke ran a sly tongue over his ear lobe. "Take me to that room, or we're doing this right here, in front of everyone."

"I almost like how that sounds," Hawke purred, a sly smile creeping across his face. "but, as you wish." Earning a surprised yelp from Fenris, the champion easily scoops him up into his arms and carries him over his shoulder up to the second floor and into the room. He hastily kicks the door shut behind him as he goes. 

***** 

Setting Fenris gently down on the bed, he steps back to slowly pull off his bowtie, and finish unbuttoning the white shirt beneath his jacket. Stripping himself bare except for his trousers, Fenris couldn't help but appreciate how beautiful, and poweful this man looked in person. Those arms, those strong, capable arms... a simple picture could never do them any justice. 

Then, Hawke leaned down to kiss Fenris as he sat on the bed, towering over him and caressing the back of his neck. The elf clumsily took off his own jacket, and Hawke helped him  with the rest. The human's eyes widened as he took in the sight of Fenris's tattoos, idly following them with his fingers, tracing his sides and dipping his fingers into the elf's pant line. He quickly pulled away, however, deciding instead to nip again at Fenris's neck. The elf moaned. He knew that this would likely leave a mark, but right now, he just didn't care.

Hawke worked his way down, eventually coming to take one of Fenris's dark nipples into his mouth, brushing up against it with his teeth and circling it with his tongue. He gasped, back arching into the contact and Hawke chuckled, causing bubbles to form in his stomach and flutter through his body. Eventually he moved to the other one, using a free hand to stimulate that which he had just abandoned. Fenris was already painfully hard, and Hawke must've known it, telling by the grin on his face. 

"Hawke," he pleaded, reaching to grab the man rather harshly by his cheeks. "Please." 

"Be patient," the other cooed, lacing his fingers through one of Fenris's hands and placing sloppy kisses on his knuckles. "I want you to enjoy this." 

"I already-" his breath was snatched from his lungs when suddenly Hawke had pressed his tongue to the hardened bulge at his groin, mouthing at his member through his incredibly thin dress pants. Hawke laughed again, and Fenris would have hit him had the vibrations not felt so good.

"What was that?" he pulled away for a moment, smirking up at Fenris with knowing eyes. 

"Don't... tease me," the elf managed, trying to ignore the fact that his knees were shaking so hard that they nearly shook the bed as well. Hawke put his hands on his thighs to still them, lacing his fingers through the elf's belt loops and giving a gentle tug. 

"Is this okay?" he asked softly, not teasing this time though Fenris definitely felt like he was. 

"Yes, hurry, please," he grunted, unsteadily putting his hands on Hawke's and helping the other man strip him of his pants and his boxers- freeing his straining erection from it's confines. Hawke practically purred like a delighted cat, admiring the markings travelling up his legs and smoothly down into his groin, even lacing around his pretty cock. 

Before Fenris could voice another word of complaint at the Champion's hesitation, he dipped his head down to take the tip of the elf's member into his mouth, running his tongue over the slit that already leaked with pre-cum. Fenris cried out but covered his mouth instinctively, cheeks nearly as red as apples.

Encouraged, Hawke took in more of him, running his tongue along the base and smoothly bobbing his head up and down as if he'd done this a million times before. His mouth worked so expertly around him, gentle wet heat so inviting unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Fenris keened into his palm, tears welling in his eyes as he felt himself approach his release. 

Then, Hawke pulled away, a pang worse than the stabbing of any knife pooling into Fenris's gut. "Hawke!" Fenris practically snarled, green eyes shining in the dim light of the room. "Why did you stop?" 

"We just started, Fenris," the other man chuckled, caressing the elf's cheek. "I can't let you finish yet, the night would be for nothing." 

Fenris huffed, allowing himself to lean into the gentle touch. "I... suppose," he submitted. "but... what now?" 

"Well," Hawke hummed, pushing his lover back into the pillows and climbing on top of him, muscular arms encasing the elf in a delightful sort of cage. "I'd like to take you, here on this bed, and show you just how amazing, and gorgeous you really are." 

He blushed, again, as if he could get any redder than he already was. "Hawke-..."

"You deserve it," he promised, smiling warmly. "Unless you'd rather it the other way around-" 

"No, this... this is fine. I want it like this," Fenris interrupted him quickly, tripping over his words. "I want to feel you, Hawke."

"Hmmm, I could listen to you say that every day for the rest of my life and never get tired of it," he whispered, slowly moving off of the elf to dig through his clothes, removing a small bottle of scented oils that made the elf's eyes widen. 

"You... have that handy? Did you plan this?"

"No," Hawke laughed. "I borrowed this suit from Dorian, and he always keeps this stuff on him." 

"Ah," was all he got out as Hawke quickly returned, covering his hands with the oil and slicking Fenris's entrance causinf the elf to shiver. He watched his boyfriend's face closely, resting a hand on his cheek as he inserted a finger, slowly working him open with the patience and gentle touch of a saint. 

As discomfort slowly grew to pleasure, Hawke inserted a second and then eventually a third. Curling up to rub that one special spot, Fenris cried out his name, spine arching as he clutched at the sheets. 

"There we go," Hawke murmured, slowly pulling his fingers out. He made quick work of the last of his clothing, freeing his own erection from his shorts. Fenris gaped at the girth and size, hardly able to believe that he could some how, possibly, be _more_ turned on. Hands found his knees and gently pulled them apart, wrapping the elf's calves loosely around Hawke's waist as he positioned himself. "Do you still want this Fenris?" 

" _Fenhedis_ , Hawke," he hissed, desperate for contact. "Yes!"

With that, he hesitated no longer. He plunged himself into the elf, who rewarded him with a cry of pleasure that could have awaken the entire floor. Even better, he was so tight, so warm, perfectly taking him at his whole length... he could just sit like this and be content, looking at Fenris and how they both fit together like two halves of one whole.

He began with a slow, gentle pace, leaning down to kiss Fenris deeply, tongue prying into the other man's mouth to show him just how good this felt. The elf clawed at his back, thrusting upward and groaning, a demand for more. He couldn't help but comply, nipping the other man's lip as he easily picked up his pace, harsh sounds of skin slapping against skin along witb Fenris's whimpers and groans. This was heaven, he was sure of it. There was nothing that could have pleased Hawke more than this.

"H-Hawke," the elf rasped, reaching for himself with hands that shook from a body completely overwhelmed with ecstasy. "I-.. I'm-" 

Getting the hint, he took the hand that was previously stroking the elf's cheek and began stroking his leaking cock. Fenris gasped, hardly able to make any coherent noise as his body jerked with pleasure, semen splattering all over the Champion's hand and chest.

Hawke was close to follow, thrusts becoming sloppy and out of pace as his breathing became more ragged, more carnal and less controlled. As he released, he filled Fenris with his seed, earning a final whimper from the elf below him. 

****

When they parted, Hawke immediately captured the other man in his arms and pulled him close, breathing in the scent of sex that reeked on the both of them. They spooned, bodies, naked bodies pressed close together, sticky wet and warm, and Hawke was blissfully at peace. 

However, as Fenris began to collapse from his high, he noticed the chill of cold semen dripping down his leg, the warm hands clutching him from behind and the breathe at his neck. What had he done? What had he _done?_ A sudden panic overwhelmed him at this realization and he threw himself out of the bed, scrambling to pull his clothes back on as his heart threatened to burst at any moment. 

Hawke shifted slightly, looking slowly up at him, hardly registering what was happening until he saw the elf turning towards the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" he sat up suddenly, blankets pooling into his naked lap. "What's wrong? Did I... do something? Was it _that_ bad?" 

Fenris wasn't sure what to say. What _was_ wrong? He'd just made love to the man of his dreams and now he was having a complete panic attack. It was... it was almost too much. Too much too fast, too much that Fenris didn't deserve.

To want a man like Hawke, to want to tie Hawke down and keep him to himself.. it was selfsh. Hawke deserved better than him, better than some lowly ex-lyrium dealer on the run from his past who could never promise him security, who could never promise him a future. 

He had been leading Hawke on, leading Hawke to believe that they could have some sort of miracle chance together despite who Hawke was, who Fenris was. These emotions, this longing, this pain, this guilt... he couldn't stand it. He couldn't face it. It was too much he just, he just _couldn't_.

"It... was fine," he said finally, heart sinking when he saw the human's face fall. "No, that is... that's not right. It was... It was better than anything I could've hoped for." 

"Then what's wrong? Was I... Did I push too much?" 

"No," Fenris shakes his head. "I... I just... can't, Hawke. This is too fast, I... I made a mistake." 

"You started this," Hawke reminded him, his tone of hurt turning slightly to offense. "and now you're just... going to leave?"

"I'm sorry," the elf muttered weakly, unable to meet the other man's eyes. "It was selfish of me. I won't do it again." He turned back towards the door, taking the handle in his hand when he felt some one grab his elbow.

"Fenris, how are you supposed to get home?" Hawke asked, and Fenris tried his best not to look at the tears forming in the man's eyes. "I... At least let me-"

"No," he insisted, shaking himself free of the touch. "I'll call a taxi. I need to be alone. For what it's worth, I... I'm sorry, Hawke," he murmured, looking away. "It was... nice, to be happy, just for a little while." 

And with that, the elf was gone, door slammed behind him. Hawke stood, devasted at the foot of the bed, and his knees gave out from beneath him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE ANGST THAT I PROMISED !!!! ; D expect lots more in the chapters to come, our happy days in this story are OVER. (For now, anyway.) 
> 
> If you liked (or hated) please leave a comment! I appreciate your feedback and it gets me writing that next chapter so much faster c :


	7. The Glamour And The Trauma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very short but it's better on it's own than with the following chapter. Also sorry that it's sort of late, I'm writing too many fics at once ;;;;
> 
> Anyways, some angst is coming up, but also some of the background ships in the tags ; )

_**"** 'We're cool,' I say calmly, although I feel something else. I feel... sad. Like I've lost something I never quite had. **"**_

— Christine Seifort

 

Hawke remembered the last few times he'd found himself in a situation like this. 

The first was with a boy he'd dated in his early days of the minor leagues. His name was Joslyn. They used to go on late night adventures together, when Hawke used to like sports cars and driving really fast when there were no cops around to stop him. They'd get drunk, fool around, and when he'd finally come down from the high, he had to leave again for another game.

One night they spent together on the hood of a convertable, under the twinkling night sky, Joslyn mentioned something about his love for dogs and how he'd always wanted a puppy of his own. So, when Hawke returned from Tantervale for the regionals, he'd brought Joslyn a mabari puppy from the finest breeder in Fereldan. 

Turns out, Joslyn had been planning to dump Hawke upon his return. Apparently those nights spent together and the longer ones spent apart were taking a toll on him, and he'd sought company else where. The fact of Hawke's gift seemed to push him even further away, and Joslyn rejected him without thought for the other man's apologies. 

"You're a little _much_ , Hawke," he'd said as he turned towards the door, ignoring the puppy in the burly man's arms. "I can't do this, not with you constantly hanging on my arm and then leaving all the time. You're a liability, and I can't just hang around to be your pet." 

After that, when Hawke first came to Kirkwall, he met an older man, a photographer, named Peter. Peter was his first love, or so he thought. His mother had introduced them when she became concerned that Hawke wasn't going to get married at the 'proper age'. The dance he put on with Peter was for show, at first, until he realized how much he truly enjoyed the other man's company. 

Hawke always did everything he could to please his mother, even if it meant going out with some one who was five years or more above his own age. Soon enough, that translated into Hawke doing everything he could to please _Peter_. Even if it meant avoiding the MLB meetings and formal events to pay attention to Peter, or avoiding public interviews so that Peter wouldn't have to see Hawke on TV. Peter hated the idea of Hawke being a celebrity, and did everything he could to clip the other man's wings. 

Hawke loved him, though, he loved Peter's affections even if it stood right beside his scolding. He loved the gentle touches to his thigh and the kisses on his cheek in public. He loved the pictures that Peter took of him, the pictures he took at the games. He loved those lurid phone calls they shared while Hawke was away, making sure that Hawke spent every second of his free time at Peter's disposal. 

Then, when Hawke won the world series for the Kirkwall Marchers and earned his title as the Champion, Peter was outraged. He came back to their house to find that Peter had a taxi parked out front with boxes of Hawke's things stacked in the back seat. When Hawke asked questions, he curled his lip in disgust. 

"I wish I didn't know you," Peter spat. "I made the big mistake of playing this... this game with you. I'm not doing it anymore. I can't." 

"I don't know what you're talking about-" 

"You're _toxic_ , Hawke," he continued. "I'm done." 

"Are you leaving me?"

"No, _you're_ leaving," he gestured to the taxi. "I've got other plans." 

Now, of course, there was Fenris. Hawke remembered the look of pain and horror on the elf's face as he dressed himself and headed for the door. "This is too fast," he'd said. "I've made a mistake." 

It left a brand in his memory that haunted him even as he left the following day for Fereldan. The games over the next few weeks brought no relief, and the other players noticed. A couple of them tried to lighten his mood by asking about the burly man's company at the MLB party, but they were unintentionally rubbing salt in his wounds. 

This depression had even begun to effect his performance on the field. He actually took a walk for the first time in almost two years of batting for the Marchers and Cullen would have been blind to not notice. He pulled the batter off to the side after the second inning, isolating the two of them in the locker room. 

"Hawke, what in the Maker's name has gotten into you?" he'd snapped, cheeks red with anger. Hawke couldn't blame him, he had a right to be disappointed. "You're not yourself out there, Garrett. Did something happen? Are you sick? Are you... are you _drunk?_ " 

"No, no," Hawke replied, tone low and defeated. "I'm sorry, Cullen. I-..." 

"Garrett, does this have to do with that boy from the formal in Hightown?" he asked, eyes narrowed. 

"No, it's my fault," Hawke stammered, breathe hitching in his throat. "I shouldn't have-" 

"Garrett, look at me," the coach repeated sternly, hesitantly reaching to grab the batter by his jaw and forcing him to stop staring at his shoes. "After these games are over, you're sitting out for the next few games until you get your head back on straight. I'll be in touch with Bethany, and if you so much as _watch_ a baseball game, you'll be polishing the pitching machines. Is that clear, Garrett Malcolm Hawke?" 

"Yes, sir," he squeaked instinctively, still tense with fear as Cullen stalked out of the locker room. 

After about a month in Fereldan, he was more or less glad to be home. Buddy's silly, wrinkly face brought a little bit of warmth to his heart that he'd been lacking since the night Fenris left. Hawke hadn't dared try to text him; he knew how that went down in situations like these and it was never good.

A break might not be a bad idea, but... what would he do? Instinctively, he wanted to call Fenris and invite him over for a movie, but then he remembered. Right. Things were different now. He'd been sitting on the couch in some fuzzy pajama pants, Buddy curled up beside him, head in his lap. He partially wanted to close his eyes and take a nap there, but his thoughts didn't relent. He kept replaying that moment in his mind, Fenris leaving, Fenris's last words. 

There was a rapid but gentle knocking his door. He didn't even have the energy to move, let alone get Buddy off of him so that he could stand. "They key's in the plant!" he shouted, not caring if the visitor at the door turned out to be an assassin or something. At this point, he'd welcome the blow. 

Voices somewhere in the kitchen as the door opened, a pair of girls walking in and closing it behind them. The first, very obviously, was Bethany. At her side was that one woman from the MLB formal that Fenris had brought, Isabela. He'd ignored his phone during the time he spent in Fereldan, had they become... a _thing?_ Maker, give him strength... 

"Brother, look at you," his sister sighed, immediately rushing over to the couch and taking his face in her hands. She felt his forehead (checking his temperature), made a dissatisfied noise, and shook her head. "Garrett... Did you eat _anything_ in Fereldan? I swear you've lost fifty pounds." 

"Eleven; twelve maybe. It's nothing. I'm fine," he insisted, his grumbling hardly audible. 

Isabela, still in the kitchen, pulled off her heels and set them by the door. When she was done, she crouched down beside Bethany in front of Hawke, propping up one arm. "You're obviously not fine," she cooed. "Why don't I order a pizza, sweets?" She looked toward Bethany at that, who nodded and told her that Garrett's favorite was the kind with the pineapples on it. He huffed at this, why did she always have to strike him at his weak spots? 

"What is she doing here?" Garrett asked as the other woman left to make a phone call. 

"She wants to talk to you. She understands what you're going through," Beth said. "Fenris doesn't hate you, Hawke. Why he left had nothing to do with you." 

"Oh? Yeah?" he snorted. "You said that the last two times, Bethany. It's not having as much of a comforting effect."

"Those guys were douchebags who didn't deserve a man like you, Garrett, and you know that," she said sternly, jabbing a finger at his bare chest. "You have a heart of gold, alright? It's not your fault that douchebags aren't strong enough to hold it." 

"Done, and done, they'll deliver it here for us," Isabela concluded, sitting down on the couch beside Garrett as she returned. This made him a little uncomfortable, but he didn't bother trying to move away. Isabela seemed like a woman who always got her way, no matter what. "Hawke, Fenris is.... he's been through a lot. The fact that you actually made a homerun says a lot about how much he trusts you." 

Bethany laughed, and that drew a giggle from the other woman who clamped a hand over her lips. "Sorry, no more baseball puns." 

Hawke took a moment to process what she said, looking slowly down at Buddy's sleeping face as drool dampened his furry pants. "It was his idea," he said softly. "I guess that's why it's so confusing." 

"Hm, Fenris always had lots of ideas. I learned not to get my hopes up when we were together. I let him go as far as he was willing to go and that hardly got past oral," she explained with a sigh. "Life didn't exactly deal Fenris a good hand, Hawke. Opening himself up like that can be hard on a person, especially after what that-... that asshat Danarius did." 

"You were... a couple?" 

"Once, a few years back. It was the first consensual sexual experience he had since prison, I think... maybe? I don't really like to think about that though," she continued. "One day he just came up to me and said that he wanted to go back to being friends and that was that. I didn't mind. It's whatever, you know?" She waves a free hand as if to gesture to "whatever" and Hawke nodded. 

"I kept asking if what I was doing was okay, and he kept telling me to keep going," Hawke said, feeling a bit awkward at confessing this in front of his sister but for some reason he felt safe in Isabela's presence. Like... he could tell her literally ANYTHING and she wouldn't see him any less. This must've been why Fenris had liked her so much. "I even suggested that he be on top instead but-"

"Not listening!" Bethany cringed, covering her ears with her hands and Isabela chuckled. 

"Of course," Isabela hummed, smirking a little. "I don't usually dwell over little, fairy tale things, but it seems like Fenris might be in love." 

"He can't be," Hawke said quickly, almost defensively, "He couldn't leave fast enough." 

"That wasn't hatred, Hawke," the woman laughed again. "I think it was fear."

"Fear of what?"

"Fear of _love_ ," Bethany interjected. "Everyone he's ever loved has been taken from him, right, Isabela? Isn't that what you said? Maybe he wants to push you away so that he won't be hurt if he loses you." 

"That all sounds very romantic, and all," Hawke said, looking up as the door bell rang and he caught a glimpse of the pizza truck in the driveway. "but I've been rejected enough times to know what it looks like." 

"Stubborn asshole," Isabela teased, shaking her head. "Come eat some of this pizza, now. You definitely need it." 

The two girls paid for it and Bethany had brought him a piece. The batter looked it over hesitantly, drool practically rolling down onto his chin. When he took a bite, he'd forgotten just how good food tasted. He savored it on his tongue, not hesitating to take another. They laughed at him, but he didn't care. He was starving. 

"Can we like, not talk about it for now?" he asked between mouthfuls. "I... I sort of just want to hang out with you for a while." 

"Sure," Bethany cooed, smile broadening her features. "You can pick the movie, as long as it's not anything with Vin Diesel." 

"You just cut out all of the good ones." 

"What about... Oh, here's your copy of Mad Max, is that good?"

"That's... perfect, Beth," he sighed, almost blissfully. "You're the best sister ever." 

"I try," she giggled. Hawke did his best to ignore the way Isabela openly oggled his sister's ass as she bent down to put the CD into the player. In all honesty, he wasn't sure what he'd do with himself if something happened to her. Bethany was the rock that he clung to whenever the tide would rise and try to bring him down to nothing. He understood why Isabela liked her, it was impossible NOT to like Bethany, but he only hoped that the other woman's intentions were pure; despite evidence to the contrary. 

As the movie played, Isabela leaned closer to Hawke as Bethany lounged in her arms. "Don't worry too much, Fen'll come around," she murmured in his ear. 

Hawke huffed, trying to focus his eyes on the movie and not the couple using his shoulder as a pillow. "Thanks for the optimisim, but I doubt it." 

"I'll have Beth send you my number," she prodded, giving him a poke in the side with her elbow. "If you need anyhing at all, let me know, alright?"

"I... okay, thank you." 

"We're all part of the same family now," she cooed. "We have to look out for each other."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter coming soon! Please subscribe for notifications on updates, also leave a comment if you liked it and this isn't beta'd so let me know if something is super duper funky c :


	8. Be Without You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has two parts so the chapter after this will be significantly short. I wanted to post them both at the same time but you guys have been waiting long enough already. So, a cliffhanger, for now! Enjoy, my friends c :

 

 _ **"** If you desire healing,_  
_let yourself fall ill,_  
_let yourself fall ill. **"**_

— Jalaluddin Rumi

 

A shaky, unsteady voice on the other end of the phone. "It's been t-two months, Fenris. Y-You've skipped t-two-thirds of your shifts, I can't k-keep covering for you."

He frowned, grip on the phone tightening. "And? So what?" he snapped.

"If you d-don't come in tomorrow at noon, I'm... I'm gonna have to let you go," Anso stammered, obviously battling with himself over the words he was saying. "I h-have no choice." 

"Suppose that's it then," the elf grumbled, glaring off in the distance. "I'm fired." 

"I'm sorry, Fenris. This- This is the way it has to be." 

"Goodbye, Anso," he said, cutting the other man short. He hung up the phone with a harsh tap, it would have been much more satisfying with a flip phone: at least he could slam that shut. 

Fenris had left the apartment a few hours ago, bringing only a book with him and his phone. Over the past two months since the "incident", he was flanked by reminders of his failures wherever he went. Isabela had started seeing Hawke's sister, Merrill was going on breakfast dates with Hawke's brother, and Bull was shagging Hawke's best friend, Dorian. People that his friends would never have met if not for his association with Hawke. Everyone of them had someone except for him. He was alone, swamped by the reflections of what he'd lost. 

He'd found himself on an empty stretch of road that passed over the lagoon just on the edge of Darktown. It was an old overpass, worn and unused. The new overpass wasn't far, branching off from Lowtown and proudly sporting all of the traffic. As Fenris sat on the edge with his legs hanging down, he felt at peace with the quiet. This place was his own: no memories of Hawke, no memories of Danarius, only memories of the welcoming isolation that could he found here. It was his only escape in a time like this. 

Even worse, he could still remember Hawke's touch as if it had only been the night before. He felt like such a fool, a coward. If he could go back, if he could do anything to go back, he would not have rejected Hawke. He would have stayed and told Hawke that he... well, wait, did he? Did he love Hawke? He honestly didn't know. He was scared of what the answer to that question might be.

And now, not only did he sit here without a boyfriend, he sat here without a job. He tried to tell himself that it was for the best, that he hated working with customers anyways and that he'd find a new job as a dog walker or something, but he knew this was just the begginning of a downward spiral for him. For three years he'd maintained the facade that everything was fine, that he could handle himself, evade his true identity and Danarius at the same time. How long could he keep it up? Would it be better in the end if Danarius had found him again? 

Who was he kidding... If Danarius got a hold of him again, he wouldn't for a second bring him back into the ring. He was hunting for Fenris to either kill him or throw him back in jail where he couldn't tell the public about Danarius's little gang. He was a loose end, a liability. He meant nothing to Danarius, he was just another tool to him, another means to an end. He couldn't expect his life to be any easier just because he quit running away.

He froze in his place when he heard the sound of tires grinding on asphalt, a car engine puttering to silence. They'd stopped not far behind him, and he looked back in the corner of his eye to see KPD (Kirkwall Police Department) stamped on the hood. He panicked, the driver was already starting to climb out, was there any use in running? If he bolted for the alley, would he get away? 

The woman exiting the car noticed Fenris preparing to flee and she puts her hands up, stopping in her tracks. "There's no need to run, that is, unless you've committed a crime that I don't know about," she said softly, though her tone was bold, and commanding. "Just want to talk, that's all." 

Fenris snorted, not bothering to say anything as he turned back toward his book: blocking her out. Why was he so afraid of her? She was a Kirkwall police officer, not a Tevinter. Her kind was the epitomy of what cops were supposed to be, right? The good guys? 

He tensed a little as the woman approached him, hands tucked into her pockets and shoulders relaxed. She gestures to the rail, "may I sit?" she asked. 

"Sure," he grumbled. "but I'm not about to jump, if that's your concern." 

She nods, carefully considering his words. She was a strong woman, heavily built but with muscle rather than feminine curves. She was ginger and had the freckles to match, but they made her no less intimidating. "So, what is it then? What brings you out here?" 

"Before I bore you with my problems," Fenris said matter-of-factly, closing his book and turning towards you. "I'd like to know who I'm talking to." 

"Aveline Vallen," she said courteously. "Chief of Police in this town, and you must be Fenris." 

He felt the panic return as she said his name, and he stiffened, preparing to either run, or... Maker knew what. Would he really shove her off of this overpass and kill her in order to survive? No... no, he wouldn't. That was murder. That's something that Danarius would do. 

"How do you know my name?" he said, sounding more suspicious than he'd meant to. 

"Hawke is a friend of mine, a pain in the ass, surely, but a friend none the less," she mused, unphased by his tone. 

"What's he said about me?" 

"He came to me the night after the two of you met outside the Hanged Man, when he saved you from those Tevinters," she said, briefly turning to look at him. "He wanted to know if I knew anything about it, if I could keep an eye out." 

"What did you say?" 

"I said that I think you're trouble," she stated firmly. "and that Hawke should be careful." 

"Do you still think that?" 

"Is there a reason I should?" she asked, quirking a brow at the elf. "So far, you've done nothing to raise my suspicion. I'm more worried about your shadow." 

"Tevinters," he huffed, letting his gaze fall to the lagoon below the overpass, sea water twinkling in the afternoon light. 

"Tevinter _thugs_ , in particular. Cultists and gang bangers like the ones from the parking lot," she clarified. "You seem alright to me." 

"Thank you, now I'll never again doubt that my presence in the world meant something." 

The police officer, Aveline, rolls her eyes and swings her legs off of the rail as she stands up right again, easily towering over Fenris by a foot or so. "Listen, you're a citizen of Kirkwall. It's my duty to keep you safe," she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small plastic card, cartoonishly shaped like a police badge. "If something happens- if you see anything or hear anything; I want to be the first person that you call. Alright?" 

"What if I were a criminal?" he asked, looking from Aveline to the card and back again. "Would you still abide that?"

"Hm, that depends," she narrowed her eyes, taking a moment to look him over again. "but, I don't think that will be a problem. Hawke isn't the sort to surround himself with rapists, burglars, or mobsters. We'll get on just fine," she nods in dismissal, turning back toward the squad car and yanking open the door. "Oh, and Fenris?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I'd suggest you find somewhere else to read from now on. I don't want anyone else bothering you because they think that you'll jump." 

"I... perhaps you're right. Thank you, officer." 

"Call me Aveline, please," she forced a smile. "I'll see you around." 

 

* * *

 

Another month, and no Fenris. Hawke had sat out from the last few games as Cullen promised he would, but of course he was back on the field again when the team was preparing to travel to Orlais. It was a long trip, but he was happy to be with the boys again. He could actually focus on baseball now, feel the rush of adrenaline when he takes the bat in his hand, smile and laugh through interviews. Things were slowly becoming normal again, piece by piece. 

When the second month passed and Hawke returned to Kirkwall, his first thought when getting off of that plane actually wasn't something depressing about Fenris. His first thought was about Buddy, and how Bethany had brought the dog to the airport just to greet his owner when he got through security. The dog practically bowled over a crowd of people to get to Hawke, and Hawke felt like the happiest man in the entire world. 

However, that wasn't to say that Hawke didn't still think about the elf... a lot. He haunted the man's dreams, his sleepless thoughts, his lurid fantasies- memories of the night they shared together. He still stewed over possible apologies, love letters, trials of courtship or... Maker, anything really. As long as it showed Fenris that Hawke was willing to help him heal and protect him from every thing he feared, it would be good. 

Presently, Bethany, Varric, and Carver had taken Hawke to the Dales to try to clear the other man's mind. Even better, none of them brought their Fenris-associated dates. It was just Hawke and his little family, the family he's always had through everything. Carver was complaining about how Alistair's hit lost the last game in Orlais for them, and Varric only laughed. While this was happening, he and Bethany were quietly scribbling tic-tac-toe on a napkin, like children without a coloring book. 

Their waiter approached them and Hawke was hardly paying attention, scribbling over Bethany's markings and giving her a shove. She'd won, again. This game was impossibly simple, why was he so bad? He looked up however when he felt Varric pinch his arm, only to see the waiter staring expectantly at him. Normally he paid no mind to the servers here, he knew them all and had familiarized himself with them, but this one was... different. Had he seen this man somewhere before? 

"What would you like to drink tonight, sir?" the man asks, though he's clearly asked it once before. He's blonde, and his eyes are the color of honey. There's a little scruff of facial hair along his jawline, but it's subtle, charming. Where had he seen this guy before? 

"Just some iced tea is fine," he said, furrowing his brow. "Do I know you from somewhere?" 

The waiter laughs, grinning from ear to ear. "No, you wouldn't know me, I don't think," he cooed. "The name's Anders, but if you're interested, you're always welcome to get to know me better." He winks, and when he departs to make their drinks, Hawke notices a slip of paper from his notebook on the table, a phone number scrawled across in effortlessly beautiful handwriting. Hawke gapes at it, not sure how to feel or what to think. It had been two months since Fenris vanished from his life completely, he couldn't flirt with some one else. Not if he was waiting for Fenris to come back around. What would he think of Hawke if he saw him with another man? It'd ruin everything. 

Bethany grins, snatching the paper and holding her hand out. "Give me your phone. Now."

Hawke frowned. "What? Why?" 

"You need a distraction," she said, gesturing for his phone again. "Flirt with somebody for a while. Doesn't have to mean anything, but it might help you stop crying yourself to sleep at night." 

He looks briefly offended, clutching his phone to her chest; out of her reach. "I do not cry myself to sleep at night." 

"Hawke, give her your phone, for crying out loud," Varric huffed. "We're all tired of hearing about your woes." 

"Alright, alright," he gives in, handing his phone over, though clearly displeased. "But only because you said it would help." 

Texting Anders over the next few weeks definitely didn't help.

He didn't mind the conversation, it was nice to meet some one who he could talk to while he was away that wasn't Bethany or Varric. Anders was very full of himself, so it seemed, and he made no shame about flirting with Garrett in the most forward ways possible. Garrett couldn't say the man wasn't attractive, but he didn't... _couldn't_ reciprocate it. Fenris always appeared in his mind again, and he felt so wrong. So... guilty. After one of his games, Anders had asked Hawke to go on a date with him once he'd returned to Kirkwall. He had previous arrangements to help Dorian move into his new house that day, but he and Anders agreed on going to see a movie afterwards. Hopefully, this would work better than just the texting. If anything, all of this just made Garrett feel even worse than he did before. 

The games he played weren't the best ones of the season, but they managed to get at least one win out of it, which was good. The last one was even the first game where Dorian got to pitch, and he blew the opposing team away. He fit right in with the other Marchers, though he acted like he hated it. That was Dorian's way, he never admitted that he enjoyed himself, only commented on the poor quality of the home field and the locker room smells. He and Alistair went at it like cats, and he criticized Carver more than Carver could criticize his pitching stance, but... he was part of the family now. He was like the note that the team's harmony had always been missing. 

Hawke was driving out to Dorian's place the morning after he'd gotten off of the plane from the Anderfels (Ironic, right? Considering his 'date' for the night). Dorian had moved into a cozy two-story house on the same street as Hawke and Varric. It was nice to have another neighbor on the team, maybe they could start meeting up at Hawke's place for a family breakfast or something. 

He recognized Dorian's big fancy car instantly, and parked right beside it. There was a moving truck out front, and a truck parked on the other side of the drive way. Had... had he invited Bull to come and help as well?

Dorian was dressed in a t-shirt and joggers, hair barely tamed as he stepped back out the door to collect more boxes. It was strange, every time he saw Dorian out of uniform he was sparkling and stylish. This was new for him, but not in a bad way. The Tevinter man smiles warmly when he sees his friend, stepping down off of the front porch to go and greet him.

"Ah! Just when I feared you wouldn't come," he clasps a hand on Hawke's shoulder; which the other man completely ignores. He grabs Dorian and pulls him into a tight bear hug, making sure to mess up his hair in the process. The disgruntled noise from the pitcher was reward enough. 

"Maker, I can't believe you're right next door," he breathed, finally releasing Dorian. "After all these years-"

"Yes, yes, don't get all teary eyed, please," he huffed, gesturing to the truck. "There's work to be done, come on then." 

As they gathered the next few boxes and took them inside, Hawke noticed the house wasn't unlike his own: tall ceiling, polished floors, and  dark trim. Boxes were stacked all over in no apparent order but Dorian was very strict about where Hawke set them down, claiming that there was some apparant organization to the mess. 

"So, you invited your boy toy to come help too?" he asked, though he hoped desperately that he was somehow wrong. He didn't want to see Bull right now, not while he was doing everything in his power to stop thinking about Fenris. 

"Hm? That hulking mess of a qunari?" he sounded annoyed, but Hawke knew that was just Dorian's expression of affection. When they became friends, Hawke would always be referred to as "that savage bear". "Sadly, no. He insisted, and I didn't have the heart to shoo him away when he came knocking." 

Hawke nodded, not saying anything as he turned to head back outside and get more boxes. He saw Bull standing at the moving truck, pulling out what appeared to be a refrigerator from the back. He looked up at Hawke and nodded to the fridge. "Gimme a hand, will ya?" 

He did so, but a bit awkwardly as he clambered into the truck to get his hands on the other side. It was heavy, but it was presumably a lot heavier without Bull taking on the end. He wondered if Bull was mad at him for what had happened, if he hated him. He already knew that Isabela didn't care, nor did Merrill, but Bull was a different sort of person with a very different sort of way of handling situations. 

Together, they managed to get the fridge up the porch stairs and into the house. Dorian waved at them, guiding them into an area that looked like a kitchen and he gestured to one of the walls. When they got the appliance in place, Bull let out a satisfied huff and slapped Hawke on the back a little bit too hard, sporting a wide grin. 

"Thanks, champ. Been a while since I seen ya, how've you been?" Bull asks as they wander back to the truck. 

Hawke hesitates, biting the inside of his lip. "As okay as you'd expect, but I'm playing again, at least," he said. 

"I saw! You did great at the Tantervale game, when you took that suicidal run to third and slid through there safe by nothing short of a miracle... Hah! Should have seen the look on the third baseman's face, he wanted to knock your teeth out for making a move like that." 

"Did you see Dorian's pitching? That was the best part of that game," Hawke cooed, happy that Bull wasn't inquiring him about his feelings on the Fenris ordeal like everyone else always did. 

"Wouldn't miss it, but I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that his killer ass sealed the deal for me," he winks, gesturing to a couch so that Hawke can help him carry it out. 

Hawke laughed as he climbed out with one side of the couch in arm, shaking his head. "No, you don't." 

"Saw you taking pictures with all those girls after the game too, you talked to every single one and made sure that no one got left out," he noted, pausing once they finally set the couch down where Dorian wanted it. "Most people in your position would charge for that, or wouldn't do it at all. Get conceted, turn into a jerk and take advantage of the people inspired by you.

"But _you_ ," Iron Bull continued. "You're humble, quirky, and even after being sore as hell for a game you socialize with your fans for hours: not for you, but for _them_.

"You're a good man, Hawke," he finally concluded, offering a little smile. "Even if you don't get to be a hall-of-famer." 

"Are we done with the chit chat?" Dorian interrupts, arms crossed over his chest. "I'd like to suggest that we take a break, we still have half of a truck to unload." 

"So we hike up our skirts and finish the rest while we can," said Bull, turning back toward the door.  

Dorian sighs a little too loudly. "I bought beer." 

"Oh? Then sign me up!" 

The two spend about a half an hour talking. Hawke abstains from drinking, he's not an alcoholic like Dorian, and he still had places to be later that night. Dorian knew about it, but thankfully he didn't prod while Bull was around. Praise the Maker for the small blessings. It still felt so surreal, however, to have Dorian living on the same street as him. Even more so that Dorian was becoming somewhat domestic with Hawke's ex-boyfriend's roommate. 

It takes two hours to unload the last bit of boxes from the truck, and Bull ushers Hawke out the door so that he can help Dorian "unpack". He tries not to imagine what the qunari had planned for his friend behind that door, because in truth he _really_ did not want to know. 

He should have walked to Dorian's house, he thought as he drove back home. He only lived a few houses down. Maybe he'd walk Buddy past the house tomorrow morning, stop by and say hello. Once home again, he quickly remembered his plans for the evening. Right, Anders. Date. 

Groaning audibly, he climbs up the porch steps and into his home, ignoring Carver as he complained about something on the TV. Maker, he hoped this would help. A distraction, even if it was just an afternoon diversion with some random guy from the Dales, would be a welcome one if it got Fenris's dumb beautiful face out of his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of this chapter is coming out as soon as possible, you won't be waiting too long I promise. Also don't hate Garrett for this, our poor baby is heartbroken and if you can't tell he's really really desperate. Be mad at Anders. I love Anders as a problematic fav but in this fic I made him a huge asshole, so sorry not sorry? Again, leave a comment if you liked, it means so much to me xx


	9. Afternoon Crush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> p2 is finally here!! sorry about the wait, quick thanks to @/the-tevinter-biscuit for beta-ing this for me : > ur so awesome !!!

_"There never was, for all I could ever learn, a time when living was easy and peaceful."_

— Ellis Peters

 

After showering to cleanse himself from day's work's worth of sweat from helping Dorian with his move, he chose a trendy but over-all casual outfit. They were just going to the movies after all, no reason to go all out. During the last off season, Bethany had gotten him this new thing called a "RomHim", like a romper but for guys. He was so in love with it that afterwards he'd bought at least ten more. Carver said it made him look like a faggot, but that- of course- only boosted Hawke's confidence.

The one he wore now was a drab red color, it matched well with his dark hair and tanned skin. This was the first one he'd ever owned, and easily the most comfortable. He ran his fingers through his hair and didn't bother trimming his beard. Most guys, he found, liked this hipster-lumberjack look that Hawke had going on. He knew that Fenris did.

Stop thinking about Fenris, he thought; mentally slapping himself. Stop digging the hole.

As he walked out the door and said goodbye to Buddy, he hoped desperately that something successful would come out of this night. Otherwise... well, he wasn't sure what he would do.

The two originally agreed to meet at the theatre, but once the two met outside, Anders expressed that he had other plans. Apparently the movie the two had originally wanted to see, Wonder Woman, was sold out. The only other options were either A. a kids movie or B. some sci-fi action film about the apocalypse. Hawke grumbled with dissatisfaction, and Anders clearly shared the feeling.

He, too, was dressed in casual. Not as trendy as Hawke, but handsome enough, he supposed. Someone else might have been swooning over the very sight of Anders but Hawke's love sick heart, he feared, might have long ago been claimed. There might have been no hope of redemption for him at all.

"I know a yogurt place just down the block," the other man suggested. "Frozen yogurt, best stuff in the world."

Hawke smiled, offering a curt nod. "Alright then, lead the way."

The yogurt place was different, not Hawke's usual sort of place. It was a little cozy, the light bulbs buzzing (cheap and poorly made), and it seemed all together a little off putting. Almost sketchy for a sweets shop. However, Anders had chosen the movie theatre in Lowtown. It had been ages since he'd been in this atmosphere, and he'd forgotten how dismal it was.

Anders had gone for strawberry flavor with some caramel syrup while Hawke stuck to what he loved the most: chocolate, chocolate, and more chocolate. They made idle conversation when they sat down, but eventually the blond across from him fell silent, looking Hawke carefully in the eyes. He feared briefly that he'd gotten yogurt in his beard and that Anders was doing his best not to laugh at him.

But then, he finally said, completely casually as though he hadn't been _staring_ at Hawke for like 5 minutes: "Good job at your game in Tantervale. I'm a huge fan of Dorian's, the Magisters won't be worth a damn thing this year without him.

Hawke nodded absently, shoveling more yogurt into his mouth. "Could've met him, y'know. I was with him not even an hour ago."

"Really? Oh, right, he was moving in, wasn't he?" Anders hummed, twirling his spoon between two fingers. "You're... not what I expected, Hawke."

The other reeled back at this, almost choking on his dessert. "I-... what _did_ you expect?" he questioned, narrowing his eyes a little.

"Hm, had some experience with guys like you," Anders answered carefully, not making eye contact. "Figured you'd just be looking for a temporary play toy to abuse like all of the other celebrities. But you're... real. You don't let the fame go to your head and you haven't let it turn you into a monster. That... that has to take strength."

Hawke blushed at the praise, now realizing that there definitely was some yogurt on his beard and he quickly wiped it off. Why was everyone being so goddamn nice all of a sudden? What could he have possibly done to warrant _this?_

"I try, thank you," he forced a smile. "But if you thought I'd be an asshole, why'd you ask me out?"

Anders paused at this, pursing his lips. "I... an experiment, I suppose," he admitted. "I wanted to see what would happen and... here we are."

An awkward silence fell over the two of them, both watching each other's eyes and faces. Anders had his elbows on the table, leaning close enough to Hawke that the other man could feel warm breath on his face. Hawke wasn't sure what to think or how to feel, when the blond leaned further across the table to close the distance between them and take Hawke's lips in his own.

The kiss was passionate but strange, sloppy, and Anders tasted like his weird yogurt flavor combination of strawberry and caramel. At that moment, the sensual overload was too much for him and he found himself pushing Anders away and practically jumping out of his chair to get away from him. This was wrong, he thought. This was so... so _wrong_.

"I-... I can't do this," he stammered, clearly out of breath. "I have to go."

Before Anders could protest, Hawke had slapped money onto the front desk and stormed out the door. He pulled out his phone to try and call Varric, practically collapsing into the front seat of his car. Straight to voicemail. What? Varric NEVER had his phone turned off. What happened? Where were his friends when he needed them in this time of crisis?

He tried Dorian next, and still nothing. A few idle rings but then eventually to the voicemail box. Same thing with Bethany, and even Carver. Where was everyone? As if there were anything that could happen now to possibly make his anxiety attack even _worse_...

He sat with his face in the steering wheel, groaning to himself for what felt like hours until his phone finally buzzed. He answered without even checking the caller ID, sitting upright in his seat with sudden vigor. "Hey! Where were you? I tried-"

"Sir, this is Kirkwall Memorial Hospital speaking," a soft-voiced woman said from the other side of the phone. "Is this Garrett Hawke? This number was found on an emergency list of contacts for our patient."

"Y-yeah, that's me," he said, shoulders slumping with confusion. "Which patient? What happened?"

"We'll need you to come down right away," she said, strangely monotone. "Your sister, Bethany Hawke, has been in a car accident and is in critical condition. The doctor will want to see you."

Hawke immediately fumbled with his keys to start the ignition and put his car in gear. Was it ever this hard to get it going? It wasn't like he drove a stick! "Holy shit, I'm on my way."

She was on her way back from the pet store, getting food for Buddy, when it happened. Some asshole wasn't paying attention, had been driving drunk. Ran a stop sign and struck the driver side door at a full 55 miles per hour. The officer on duty showed him pictures of the damage and it was just too much. He had to excuse himself to the bathroom before he threw up all over that cop's fancy jacket.

Her skull was fractured in 7 different places, and her spine was cracked in 3. Left arm shattered beyond recognition, and half of her teeth were recovered from the car's floorboard and the steering wheel. Embedded _in_ the steering wheel, to make things worse. She'd smacked her face off of it during the collision.

"There is a low chance of recovery for her, Mr. Hawke," the doctor had said. " _If_ she survives, she'll be paralyzed from the shoulders down. We might get some mobility out of her torso and upper arms with therapy but that's a hard maybe."

This couldn't be real, could it? No... no. This was definitely a dream. A very, very bad dream. He'd wake up on Dorian's new couch any minute and the pitcher would scold him for taking a nap while there were still tons of boxes left on the U-Haul.

"I... _If_ she survives?" he parroted with concern, brain hardly processing what the doctor was saying.

The doctor shook his head and sighed, his expression softening as he looked at the taller man. "Listen, we'll do everything that we can for her," he reached up to put a hand on Hawke's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "But you should know that the chances of her recovery are-"

"Don't. Touch. Me," Hawke snapped, a sudden aggression to his tone as he grabbed the doctor's hand and yanked it off of him with unexpected force. No. These people would _not_ take Bethany. Damnit they took his _father_ , they took his _mother_... they couldn't have Bethany too. Not Bethany. "I want to see her. Let me see my sister. Now."

"She's still in the middle of surgery," the doctor reminded him, raising his own voice now. "You'll have to wait until the operation is completed, but after that, I _promise_ that I will take you to see your sister."

Hawke's shoulder's relaxed a little, but not much. His breathing was still sharp and hot, turning his cheeks bright red and flaring up his nostrils. "How long?" he grunted.

"Two more hours, maybe longer," the doctor replied calmly. "Go to the waiting room and I will fetch you as soon as the surgery is completed. The other friends and family members that were contacted are already there."

He left without another word, or... well, he was "kindly escorted" out by two male nurses who looked a little too big for their scrubs.

In the waiting room, he saw Carver curled up in Merrill's arms, his face buried in her shoulder. It was the first open display of weakness that Hawke had ever seen in his brother, and it made the situation so much more real. Varric sat across from them with his head in his hands, Isabela beside him, squeezing his arm and visibly fighting tears though she was clearly doing her best to hide it. Uncle Gamlen was even there, sitting in his own little corner apart from the rest, still harassing a nurse about the surgery and Bethany's current condition; which didn't surprise Hawke at all.

They stopped to look up at him as he entered, though, and no one could quite say anything. Carver slowly pulled away from the dainty elf girl who he'd used as a pillow and stumbled toward his big brother. This reminded Hawke of a simpler, more innocent time where Carver had come home in tears because a kid at recess had stolen his toy car. Hawke had hugged him then, and at the next day of school he beat up the said kid and got himself his very first in-school-suspension. Now, Carver was that same, heart-broken little brother who didn't know what to do and needed his older brother for help. Except... this time... Hawke didn't know what to do either.

Hawke pulled Carver into his arms then and embraced him as tightly as he had when they were young. They hadn't hugged like this since their father died almost three years before. He laced his fingers through Carver's hair as he felt the younger man buckle, and stifle a sob into Hawke's shoulder.

"This isn't right," Carver hissed, voice completely cracked and broken. "Why Bethany? Why her?"

Hawke only shook his head, in too much pain to think or even speak. He just focused on the warmth of his younger brother in his arms, the feel of his greasy hair between his fingers as he began to cry. Hawke could have cried too, but he didn't. His jaw tightened, stiff like stone, and he glared down the hallway that he'd just come out of: waiting for the doctor to return.

It may have only been hours, but for everyone in that waiting room it felt like years. No one was strong enough to speak, only reaching out to grasp or embrace one another in a desperate attempt at comfort. The sorrow in Varric's eyes was something that Hawke had never witnessed before, and it shattered the foundations of his world.

Varric had been stoic and strong for Hawke through Malcolm's death, through Leandra's death, without so much as a blink. But, Hawke supposed Bethany was different. Bethany was young, full of potential, and special to every one of them. Now, there was a slim chance that she'd even make it out of this alive.

Hawke wanted to blame some one, to blame Isabela, or Carver, or even himself. He wanted someone to pay for this but.... it wasn't their fault. No one could have predicted this. No one would've seen this coming even if they wanted to.

After over three hours pass, there are finally sounds of footsteps from the hall and the familiar doctor comes stepping through, his expression unreadable and blank. "The surgery is complete, she is stable, for now. Though we aren't sure how long. It's a chance of fate, at this point. Not much more we can do but wait it out."

"Thank you, doc," Varric spoke up, before Hawke had the chance to get aggressive again. "Can we see her now?"

"The family members may see her," the doctor said tightly. "Other visitors will be allowed back soon enough, but we don't wish to overwhelm her."

There is a grumbling in the party of people behind them, but Hawke, Carver, and Gamlen get together and follow the doctor back down the hall. Hawke did what he could to brace himself, to bite the inside of his cheek and hold his breathe. Yet, none of that would prepare him for what he saw.

He almost couldn't recognize her at all. The doctors had to shave off her hair to perform the surgery and repair the fractured parts of her skull, but that wasn't the only thing. The left side of her face was badly cut and bruised, and her lips were swollen to nearly double their normal size. Her arm was in a thick cast, hung up on a sling, and she wore a brace around her torso and abdomen- supporting the cracked portions of her spine.

Her shoulders slowly rose and fell, but she didn't do anything that would show that she noticed any of the boys coming in. She only stared blankly forward and breathed.

"Bethany," Hawke's hands were shaking so hard, but they stilled slightly when he took her non-broken hand into his own, careful not to disturb any of the IVs. "Oh, Maker, Bethany..."

"Bloody hell," Gamlen murmured, equally awestruck. "We oughta sue the livelihood off of that man who did this to her. Sue him so hard that he'll wish that he was dead."

"Shut up, Gamlen," Carver barked, shooting him a glare. "This isn't the time or place."

"Well, look at her, boy, someone has to pay for doing this to my niece! And I'll bloody make sure they do it."

"Gamlen," Hawke growled, slowly looking up at him with dangerously hooded eyes. "Get. Out."

"Suit yourselves, I have lawyers to call anyways," Gamlen scoffed, turning a quick heel to go stomping back down the hall.

"I can't believe he's trying to make a profit off of this," Carver murmured, kneeling beside his brother to put a hand on his twin sister's arm.

"I completely believe it," Hawke replied. "What else would you expect him to do?"

"Nothing, I guess."

"Exactly."

The rest of the visitors were allowed in her room after another thirty minutes or so. Hawke didn't say anything to any of them, only sat like a statue with his hand on his sister's. Merrill convinced Carver to leave with her so that they could get some coffee and relax, and Isabela had become completely silent and rigid. Varric wrapped an arm around Hawke's shoulder, briefly resting his forehead on the human's shoulder before pulling away and leaving with Isabela.

Coach Cullen arrived eventually as well, and he sat with Hawke in prayer. Cullen had always been proudly Andrastian, but Hawke had always struggled. But, if there ever was a perfect time for Hawke to confess to the Maker, now would be that time. Cullen also tried to convince Hawke to go home and get some sleep, but Hawke only shook his head. Dissuaded, Cullen finally excused himself back to the lobby.

It must have been a few more hours past because next thing Hawke knew, a small hand was shaking him awake. He'd fallen asleep with his face in the plastic mattress, a puddle of drool forming where he'd once been. The nurse looked at him with pity and concern, running her thumb in small circles on his shoulder.

"Visiting hours are over, sir," she said gently. "You should probably go home."

"No," he said immediately, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I... I need to stay here. She's my baby sister, I can't leave her."

She sighed in defeat and nodded. "I understand, just know that the cafeteria closes in thirty minutes as well. You'll be eating out of the vending machines if you stay the night."

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "Thank you."

"I'll make sure none of the other nurses come in here and bother you, okay?" she cooed, jotting something down on her clipboard before heading towards the door. "Is there anything you need before I go? Water? Directions to the restrooms?"

"I'm fine. Just... let me know if Carver comes back, will you?"

"Sure," she nodded, before carefully skirting back out into the hall; leaving the door slightly ajar.

Hawke looked back at his sister, still struck by disbelief, and shaking his head. "You're stronger than this, Beth," he whispered, squeezing her fingers. "You _know_ it."

No response, only her chest slowly rising and slowly falling with rhythm of the beeping of the heart monitor on the opposite wall.

At this point, he had no clue what time it was and he frankly didn't care. He'd sat there crying for enough time that he felt his cheeks become fuzzy and numb, hardly able to feel his lips. When he couldn't cry any more, he moved forward to lay his head back on the mattress and lace Bethany's motionless fingers through his hair.

He could imagine her teasing him and calling him a cry baby as if this were just some silly break up that Hawke had gotten his heart tied into. He could hear her laughing as he would pinch her side in retaliation and they both would uncoil from each other's arms. Maker, he prayed that this was a dream. Please tell him that this was just a dream.

He eyes aren't closed for long before the nurse comes back knock knock knocking on that miserable door. He barely lifts his head to look up at her, only raising an eyebrow in silent question.

"A man came by with this for you," she said, slowly walking over to set down a plastic bag of stuff on the rolling table. "I asked him if he wanted to come and see you, but he refused. Just said to bring you this." She gestured to the bag.

Hawke looked from the nurse to the bag, confusion only deepening. "Did you get a name?"

"No, he left before I could ask," she answered solemnly. "He was an elf, lanky, dark skin and tattoos. Sound familiar to you?"

His mouth then became impossibly dry, and all he could do was nod. She forced a smile and asked if he needed anything else, to which he shook his head, and then she left. "Maybe he... maybe he doesn't hate me after all, Beth," he murmured looking from her motionless face to the bag on the table. "Unless this is a bag of dog shit or something. I.. I mean, it might be but... No. You're right. Who would send that kind of thing to someone at a hospital? At a time like this? I'm being so stupid."

He lets out a reluctant sigh and slowly sits up, letting his sister's hand fall back to the mattress. He can smell ground cumin and ginger from the folds of the plastic and it reminds him just how hungry he's become after sitting in this room for so many hours. He pulls out a small cardboard to-go box with a receipt taped to the top. That Antivan place, where he and Fenris had gone on their first date. His heart swelled momentarily with happiness and even as he looked back up at Bethany (or what was left of her, anyways) he was able to smile.

"Don't worry, Bethy, I'll save some for you," he hummed, taking this opportunity to push what the doctor had told him earlier into the back of his mind. "I don't know how long they'll keep you in here, but if it goes bad by then, I promise we'll go there together. To make up for it."

There is a silence, Bethany doesn't move or respond. Just as she has ever since Hawke walked into this room.

"But... you gotta make it through this before we can do that, Beth," he said, taking her hand in his again. "You gotta make it through so that you can tell me how to deal with this Fenris thing, I mean.. look Bethy, he brought me _food_. A-and you can't miss the sectionals next week either, you love the sectionals because the guys in the mascot suits always come out and pose for pictures. And... and-" he felt himself tearing up again, as if he still had any fluids left in him at all. "Who will I take with me to see Transformers: The Last Night just so that we can complain about how bad it is afterwards? Who will reminisce with me about the good old days of the of Shia Labeouf and Megan Fox? Who will walk Buddy and feed him and bathe him while I'm gone? Who will be my... my..."

His breath hitches and his food is forgotten, sat back on the table he got it from. He buries his face back in those goddamn plastic sheets and clutches his sister's hand as tight as he can. Thoughts of Fenris forgotten, thoughts of action movies abandoned, all he could think about now was Bethany, and how limp her hand felt in his own. Twenty years of life, of nurturing and care, and for what? Some asshole who decided to get in the car after drinking somehow has the power to take all of that away? To turn his sister into- into.... a vegetable? Was that her best hope for life now? Wasn't that what the doctor had said?

He composed himself suddenly, lurching back and scrubbing the tears and snot away from his face with his forearm. He decided he would do the only thing that he could do now, and though he'd already done it earlier, there was no harm in doing it again. To show how weak, desperate, and needy he truly was. He put his elbows on the bed and folded his hands together, Bethany's between them, bowed his head, and prayed. He plead to the Maker until his tears returned and he could voice coherent speech no longer.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment if you liked!! nothing motivates me more than your support !!!!!


	10. Lost Enough?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey thanks again to charlie (@the_tevinter_biscuit) for beta-ing this!!! a very long chapter but that's because the next one is very very short. sorry for taking so long to post this, i've been busy with some other things irl that may or may not have to do with dungeons and dragons. i had to work a lot too, but d&d filled up most of my nonwork time and kept me from writing. im here again though!! i hope i don't disappoint. c:

_"So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love."_

— E.A. Bucchianeri

 

As Fenris left that waiting room that night, he couldn't get out the door fast enough. He could hear the nurse calling after him even as he made it into the parking lot, but he never looked back. Bull would kill him for taking the truck without his permission, but at the moment he just didn't have a fuck to give. When he heard that something had happened to Bethany, he couldn't just sit back and do nothing. Even if all he did was bring Hawke some food, it was better than Fenris sitting in his room and feeling sorry for himself like he had been the past few days.

The next morning, Fenris had received some texts from Merrill saying that Bethany was dead. Her heart had stopped, apparently she was too far down to come back up. He hurt as he read it, struggling to believe it was truly real. He could only imagine the pain Garrett felt now. He'd lost his father, his mother, and now his sister too. Fenris barely remembered his own mother, let alone the grief he felt at her death, or... well, her murder. He couldn't hope to comprehend the kind of heart ache that would spur, nor how Hawke was handling it now.

At times, he felt tempted to walk to Hightown to Hawke's house and drop off more food for him just to make sure that he was eating, at least, but each time he grabbed his wallet and the keys to the truck, he frightened himself out of it. Bull kept encouraging him to go to him and comfort him, but Fenris, all in all, was a coward. He was selfish, and he was a coward. Besides, Hawke would likely reject him if he tried to help. Why wouldn't he? After everything Fenris had put him through?

Each passing day, though, Fenris felt more alone than he ever had in his entire life. Merrill and Isabela were grieving over Bethany, and Bull was always gone with that new boyfriend of his. The apartment had grown quiet in the absence, and the quiet was a devil in itself. It injected dark thoughts in his mind, thoughts of Hawke with his arms around him, the way Hawke smelled like cologne and oak. There were nights when he was tempted to sneak out to Hawke's house as if he were a teenager escaping his cruel parents, and to throw rocks at Hawke's window. He thought of professing his love to Hawke as though he were Romeo and Hawke were Juliet and they both weren't completely aware that life destroyed all good things with tragedy.

By the fourth day, Bull returned home in the afternoon while Fenris had been sitting on the couch watching "Begin Again" for the third time. It had been one of his favorite movies since coming out of prison when Merrill had showed it to him after his and Isabela's first date. He hadn't seen either of them since Bethany died, and that was probably taking a toll on him too.

"Pause that," Bull said tightly, standing off to the side of the couch with his arms folded over his chest. "You'll want to hear this."

"If you tell me to talk to Hawke, I won't."

Bull huffed and snatched the remote from the elf's hands, pushing the pause button just as the next song began to play. It was one of Fenris's favorites too, "Coming Up Roses".

"Listen, you're gonna be pissed, and you should be, but listen to all of it before you freak the fuck out, alright?"

Fenris narrowed his eyes at the qunari, slowly sitting up and facing him. "What's going on?"

Bull moved over to sit in the empty space beside Fenris on the couch, propping his elbows on his knees and shaking his head. "As if shit could be any more fucked up right now," he feigned a laugh, though anger was thick in his tone. "It's about Anders, Anders and his bullshit plans."

"What did he do?"

"Like I said, you're gonna be pissed," Bull warned. "But he thought it'd be a good idea to prove you wrong on the whole 'Hawke is a good guy and he's different from other celebrities thing'. Y'know how he has that second job as a waiter or whatever at The Dales? That hightown place? Well, he saw Hawke there, gave him his number. Pretended that he had no idea who Hawke was or that he knew that you knew Hawke, for that matter."

Fenris bit the inside of his cheek and his nails found themselves buried in his palms. Bull was right. He was pissed. How could Anders do that to him? What kind of self-righteous asshole thinks that's the friendly thing to do? What was he expecting? Did he want Fenris to thank him afterwards? Thank him for trying to steal his-....

No. Hawke wasn't Fenris's anything, now.

But still, it was a dick move, and that didn't even cover half of how he felt about it.

"Anyways, they texted like the whole time Hawke was in Tantervale. Anders got the guts to ask Hawke on a date and I guess Hawke was feeling desperate, so he said yes," Bull continued. "They went to get ice cream or something, and Anders realized that you were right. Hawke is genuinely a good person with good intentions who would never hurt anyone if he could avoid it. So, he kissed him."

Fenris was on his feet upon hearing this, pacing in front of the couch with his hands in fists, nostrils flared. "That... what the hell, Bull?!"

"Wait, not done yet," Bull interrupted him, holding up a hand. "Your man shoved Anders away and stormed out of there like Blondie was the plague."

"Of course he did, what sane man wouldn't?" he growled. "This is too much Bull, I... I can't believe this. I feel so... betrayed."

Bull grinned a little and made a show of cracking his knuckles. "He might still be at work, if you wanted to have a... chat with him."

There, there was the Bull that Fenris knew and loved. In the moment, he was so furious with anger that all he could do in response was give a short nod and say: "Yes."

 

* * *

 

 

Bethany was officially declared dead at 4:32 AM. She failed to recover from the surgery that should have kept her brain functioning and her heart beating. There was a huge panic and the doctors drug Hawke out of the room kicking and screaming. He could see them pulling the gown from her body as the curtains closed, electric pads slapped onto her bare chest. It all happened so quickly, that when the doctor came back out in the waiting room to tell him what happened, Hawke could only nod.

Dorian came to pick him up because Hawke was clearly in no state to drive and Carver had refused to leave the house after getting the phone call. The two sat in silence the whole way back to Hawke's house. Dorian would open his mouth to say something but soon shut it again, gaze drifting back to the road. Once in the driveway, the pitcher only reached over to take Hawke's hand, squeezing it and giving pitiful eyes. Hawke couldn't even meet his gaze, only sitting for a moment longer to acknowledge the gesture, and leaving.

Coach Cullen had the games for the next week moved to a later date, which was good because Hawke hadn't left his room since Dorian had brought him home. He didn't touch his phone, he didn't get up to drink, eat, or even shower. He got up once in awhile to piss, but that was the extent of it. Overall, he laid there in his bed, face in the pillows, curtains closed and outside world forgotten. Three days of this came and went, and he slept very little. However, in the moments he did sleep, Bethany's face haunted his dreams.

He saw Bethany throwing a fit whenever Mother tried to force her to wear a dress on the first day of school. She changed at least three times until the bus arrived and she was shoved out the door in that same dreaded dress. Luckily, Hawke had snagged a t-shirt and some shorts for her while her and her and Mother were shouting. He passed her the clothes when they were safely on the bus and gave her a little wink.

"Just change in the girl's room and put the dress in your back pack," he'd said with a big, toothy smile.

She gushed as she looked at the clothes, burying her face in the fabric and taking a deep, happy breath. "You're the best, Garrett," she cooed, grinning endlessly.

"Don't let Carver hear you!" he teased, pinching her side. "But, you’re welcome. I'll never let you forget that you said that."

"You're awful."

"But you just said that I was the best!"

"You are," she rolled her eyes. "Don't make me change my mind."

They held the funeral that Saturday, and thankfully Gamlen had taken over most of the planning. Varric helped him arrange payments, choose a proper gravestone and what not. Which was a blessing in itself, if Gamlen was left to his own devices the funeral wouldn't have even had chairs. Varric sent out the invites too: to everyone on the team as well as their families and to Isabela and her friends (including Fenris too, of course).

Hawke had hauled himself out of bed for the first time in days and showered until he was positive that the smell of depression and filth was purged from his skin. He gelled his hair back and trimmed his beard, though admittedly, Merrill had to help him through most of that. He was still a complete mess.

The girls had come over solely for the purpose of helping get the boys ready. But, really, it was Merrill and Varric helping while Isabela sat with Buddy and kept him company. Carver had threatened to rip the head off of anyone who came to close to him, so both of them were sitting in the bathroom with Hawke; attending to him like he were a child going to his first dance.

"You look very handsome when you clean up, Hawke," Merrill cooed, running a small comb through his hair as she moved it away from his face.

"Who's to say he isn't handsome even when he doesn't?" Varric added, trying to earn a smile or a laugh out of Garrett but he was rigid, only offering a grunt in acknowledgement.

Merrill had forced Hawke to sit on the toilet so that she could clean him up, since the man was too tall for his own good. At 6'4.5, he could knock himself out just by falling over too hard. She started plucking his eyebrows, to which Hawke mumbled a complaint but Merrill only shushed him again, cupping his cheek carefully as she continued.

"Do you think Fenris will come?" he asked, looking between the two of them.

Merrill was silent for a moment, tearing out another hair. Hawke winced in pain. "It would be terribly rude if he didn't," she said finally, grabbing a cool towel and dabbing at Hawke's reddened skin. "I'm sure he'll turn up."

Hawke nodded, and that was the end of the conversation.

The first part of the day was the funeral, of course, but in the afternoon there would also be the celebration of life (at Varric's insistence). Everyone invited would head back to the Hawke estate for a pool party where everyone would drink themselves into a stupor to celebrate the good times they did have with Bethany and how great of a person she was instead of crying for the rest of their lives over her absence. It was a good thought, definitely not misplaced. Bethany would hate it if all everyone did was mope around and talk about how sad it was that she died so young. It was technically a celebration of life, but since societal law says you can't have both, they have refrained from calling it that wherever they can.

Carver was ready at the same time that Hawke was, and Isabela was strangely silent. They awkwardly gathered together again to get in the car and head out to the site for the funeral. Hawke was mentally preparing himself for it, but he knew that when he approached that casket he wouldn't be ready for what he would see. They'd had it closed casket, out of respect for Bethany, but just looking at it and knowing she was in there... it tore him up on the inside like he'd swallowed a blender.

The ceremony itself seemed to go on forever. Varric had read a eulogy on Hawke's behalf, since he knew Hawke wasn't strong enough to read one aloud at a time like this, let alone write one. It was beautiful, he was sure that Bethany could hear it up in Heaven and she was crying too over how brilliant it was. Varric was a true artist, and this was the ultimate testament of that. Hawke, of course, was a babbling mess. Dorian, who had arrived on time for the first time in his life, had taken to holding Hawke in his arms and rubbing his back in small circles as he sobbed like a child.

Fenris, by the middle of the procession, still had yet to arrive. This did no good for Hawke's aching heart as he clutched tighter to Dorian. Thank the Maker for Cullen as well, because the press had tried to attend this event and interview the players when Cullen verbally ripped them a new asshole. He threatened to call the cops and key their news van which sent them scrambling back into it and out of the site as quick as the wheels would take them. Hawke didn't care usually about what the media thought of him, but the last thing he needed was for them to see him like this.

After a little while, Hawke felt a vibration in Dorian's pocket and the other man frowned distastefully. "I'm sorry, Hawke," he sighs, slowly pulling away to get out his phone and read the screen. "I have to take this. I told him to only call me if it was an emergency."

"I- I understand," Hawke nods, sitting back and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Dorian squeezes his friend's arm, giving a small smile before he sneaks out of the back of their little tent and answers the phone. Hawke, as he leaves, feels hopelessly alone. He buries his head in his hands and Carver, who sits on the other side of him, hesitantly puts his arm over his brother's shoulders.

 

* * *

 

"Bull, I swear by the grace of Andraste if you aren't half dead on the side of the road right now I will make it my priority to ensure that you are," Dorian snarled into the phone. He was standing by a tree not too far from the tent where the funeral was being held, so he did his best to keep his voice down. Though, he wanted to make it clear to Bull that he was very irritated that he had the audacity to call him while he was at his friend's sister's Maker-damned funeral.

However, the voice on the other line definitely was not Bull. "Listen, this... isn't Bull. I'm in a sort of... predicament," Fenris said, obviously strained. "Bull said you were the best person to call."

Dorian gave a long, dramatic sigh at this and ran his fingers through his hair in very obvious frustration. "A predicament that is bad enough to keep you from Bethany's funeral, I hope?" he said, not bothering to hide the bite to his tone. Hawke was falling apart in there, and the fact that Fenris didn't show up only worsened matters. He'd better have a damn good excuse for it too. Sure, he wanted to avoid Hawke because of what happened between them. Dorian could respect that, but Hawke's fucking sister was dead. Did this guy not have a heart whatsoever?

"Yes, actually, I hadn't forgotten it," the elf replied calmly, though he didn't seem to be defending himself in the slightest. "I'm under arrest, at the police station in Lowtown."

Dorian felt his jaw drop. Okay. That was.... something. "Under arrest?! What on earth did you do, Fenris?"

"An ex-coworker, punched him in the jaw and knocked out a few teeth," Fenris bit out, obviously doing his best to remain... contained. "I hadn't expected Anso to call the police on me."

"Of course he would call the police! This isn't Tevinter!" Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to compose himself before he shouted so loudly that they could hear him over the funeral processions. "Why would you do something so imbecilic? I thought higher of you than that, Fenris."

There is a silence on the other end of the phone, Dorian clearly struck a nerve. "You thought wrong," Fenris replied gravely. "He manipulated Hawke, he betrayed me. I'd thought that he was my friend."

"Anders? Wait, you and Anders know each other? Ooh my, that is rather... scandalous."

"Mhm," Fenris grunted and there was a sound of tapping on the other end. "He wanted to prove a point."

"Well, I'll head over there now. Where is Bull at the moment? Don't tell me he's been arrested too."

"He is here, in the lobby. He gave me his phone to call you, as he can't afford bail and the woman at the desk refuses to listen."

"Of course, I should have guessed as much," Dorian rolled his eyes and fumbled in his pockets for the keys to his car. "Sit tight, my friend. You shall sit in that cell nary a moment longer."

"Thank you, Dorian. That... it means a lot to me."

"Don't sweat it, Fenris. Saving the day is just what I do."

Thankfully, he had been able to slip away from the ceremony unnoticed. The station wasn't a long drive away, but the anxiety that he was desperately trying to ignore made twenty minutes feel like two hours. He almost forgot to lock his car when he got out, but he was sure to look as suave and casual as he could when finally approaching the front desk.

He smiled at the woman sitting there, propping up and elbow and being sure to show off his splendid profile in doing so. "Hello, miss, I'm here to inquire about a Mr.-"

"You!" The woman dropped her pen and it clattered to the floor, gaping at him like someone had broken her jaw. "You're Dorian Pavus! The pitcher!"

Good, now this conversation would be ten million times easier. "Ah, yes. It is. You've caught me."

"My son is such a huge fan of yours," she gushed, turning to fumble around her desk for a framed picture of him. "Would you sign this? Oh, it'd be such a good birthday gift!"

"Tell you what," he said, gently pushing he picture back towards her. "I usually charge for such things, but if you do me one small favor, I'd have a much better birthday present for you to give your son." He winked. "Front-row seating for the next Marcher's home game, in my box."

The woman paused, looking hesitantly toward her log books and then back up to Dorian. "I..." she swallowed. "What's the favor?" She kept her voice at a whisper.

"Fenris Aucoin, the name should be in your books," he hummed. "Dismiss his charges, and let him leave with me."

"He... physically assaulted a clerk in Lowtown. The victim is in the hospital, suffering from a concussion. If no one had intervened, Fenris Aucoin could have been charged with second degree murder."

"Could he? Well, that is not what he told me over the phone," he pursed his lips, considering this information for a moment. "In any case, it is important that he be released. I'll give you cash for the bail if I have to, but dismiss the charges. He's rather late for a funeral, and I do believe you were interested in a few VIP tickets to the Kirkwall Marchers game?"

 

As much as Dorian wanted to speak after getting everyone into his car, he didn't. He had to make it back to the committal service before they lowered the casket and he'd be damned if he had to coddle Hawke through the entire night because Fenris didn't make it there in time. He couldn't stop replaying that woman's words in his head, she'd said that Fenris had nearly killed Anders in his attack.

It made his stomach turn. As much as Anders deserved to have his teeth knocked out for what he'd done, would that have excused murder?

Hawke seemed so infatuated with this elf, but deep down, who was he? Hawke hadn't disclosed much aside from the fact that Fenris was involved in a drug ring back in Tevinter before he was arrested and eventually escaped prison. Had his friend gotten himself into something way over his head with this guy? If so, Dorian wasn't sad that Fenris dumped him. If Fenris was deep in as he seemed to be, Hawke was much better off in the long run. And his lifespan would be lengthened significantly, if nothing else.

Dorian had grown up in Tevinter. He'd seen the darkness in his home country, the lyrium stained streets and the gangs that kept the curfews. It wasn't Fenris's fault, what Tevinter turned him into. But if Fenris was indeed an agitator or a loose canon, Dorian wouldn't allow Hawke to be pulled down into that sort of darkness if he could help it.

 

* * *

 

 

After about forty minutes or so, Hawke heard an engine purring, tires crunching the gravel, and he snapped his head up to see if Dorian had returned. Thankfully, he had guessed right. Dorian's flashy red sports car was impossible to miss.

However, neither was the company in the white button up and sheet black tie that followed Dorian out of the car. It was Fenris, who'd clearly readied himself in a hurry, looking down at the ground with his hands in his pockets.

He felt his heart soar just at the sight of him, wanting to jump out of his seat and run over to embrace him but.... that obviously wasn't a good idea. Fenris had dumped him, and even worse, showed up late to his sister's funeral. Hawke should be angry not.... not relieved.

Dorian returned to his seat beside Hawke, and Fenris took the empty seat on Dorian's other side. The priest was wrapping up the committal service and soon Hawke would have to get up again to help Carver and the other Marchers carry the casket over to- y’know- to where it would go afterwards.

"Where did you go?" he whispered, trying to remain collected.

Dorian stiffened visibly, the corner of his lip beginning to curl in distaste. "Oh, a bad guy tried to take over the city. I saw the bat signal and the world isn't very good at waiting to be saved, you know."

Hawke frowned. This was hardly the time or place for witty jests. "Dorian, I'm serious."

"I will tell you when we return to your home," he replied, letting out a soft sigh. "An important conversation needs to be had but now now, and not here."

Hawke nodded, leaning forward a bit to catch a look at Fenris. He offered a weak smile. "You came," he whispered.

"I'm sorry for being late," Fenris whispered back, his tone still as deep and gravelly as ever. "Forgive me."

When things were said and done and the casket was- well... in the ground, Hawke was a little glad to be home. As he took off his suit and headed out back to the pool where his friends and family were waiting for him, he instinctively searched for Bethany to talk to her about the funeral, but he felt a punch to the gut when he realized she wasn't there. She wouldn't be there. Not ever again.

Varric gave the opening speech, which was a lot more light hearted than his eulogy. Hawke actually made it through that without crying, and which he mentally applauded. After him, others came and shared memories of Bethany. Even Isabela came up, followed by Merrill, and then Carver. When his brother was done, Varric tugged the batter's arm and gestured toward the patio, where a little microphone and some speakers had been set up.

"Go on, Hawke," he urged. "You've sat quietly all day. Bethany would want you to go up there."

He gave a defeated sigh, Varric always knew how to pluck people's strings. So far, he hadn't seen Fenris or Dorian, but right now it didn't matter. This was about Bethany, the person she was and how Hawke wanted to remember her. How Bethany would want to be remembered.

As he came up onto the patio and took the mic, his teammates clapped and cheered for him. He couldn't help but smile a little, even with most of his blood family dead and gone, he would always have his teammates. The boys had been there for him through thick and thin and that wasn't changing in the slightest. Even now.

"I've had a lot to say," he began, not sure what else to start off with. "but Varric has just been reading it off of paper for me because I didn't feel strong enough to get up and say it myself. Now... well, right about now Bethany would be pinching my arm until I got up here and faced my fears, in all honesty. So, Bethany, for your sanity, here I am.

"What I really want to say is that Bethany, above all people, was my best friend in the whole world. Carver would say the same, I mean, those two were literally soul mates. No one understood Carver like she did and honestly I still don't understand Carver most of the time. But... that was Beth. She could see right through you no matter what. She was selfless, and, though kind of obnoxious sometimes, she brought out the best in all of us. She was our biggest fan, boys, and she brought out the best in this team. I am the person I am because of her and..." he felt the tears coming back again but he fought them, swallowing hard and biting his tongue. "with this celebration, I want everybody's happiness that they feel in talking about how great she was to be the way that we thank her."

Cheers, hollering and chanting of Bethany's name. It made Hawke's chest flutter with pride, he could almost hear her giggling at him and telling him what a good job he did. He was surprised that he didn't want to cry. Just a few moments ago he was on the verge of hysteria and now he felt like he was floating on a blissful high. He pulled Varric into a tight hug after stepping down from the patio and took in a deep whiff of the dwarf's unique, musky scent.

"I love you, Varric," he murmured, eventually releasing him with a wide grin. "Thank you for making me do that, I... feel a lot better."

"See? Didn't I tell you this was a good idea?" Varric slapped him on the arm, but returned the smile. "Now, if I catch you crying one more time tonight, we're having issues."

"Okay," Hawke nodded. "but... what about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow you can cry all you want," Varric hummed. "but now is a time for smiling. And drinking. Go on, I got a pretty nice selection for you in the kitchen."

Hawke quickly turned in that direction, ducking back into the house and finding peace in the quiet solitude. Everyone else had gotten into the pool by now, and there were more drinks outside for the guests. He felt delighted when he saw his own bottle of cinnamon flavored wine on the counter with a sloppy red bow around the neck. Varric always used to tease him for liking the taste of that stuff but now, Hawke knew that the dwarf would always be the one who understood him the most.

He'd already pulled out the cork with his bare hands and started chugging when he heard the click of the patio door in the other room. He didn't really care who it was, especially now that he started to feel the tingling heat of cinnamon in the back of his throat and the gentle buzz in his finger tips.

Dorian came around the corner and sat at a stool that he pulled from the island, precariously crossing his legs and resting one elbow on the countertop. "Hawke, there is something that... I think you should know," he said flatly. "I wanted to wait until you had a proper drink in your hand first. So, here we are." 

"Dorian, please, I'm in a good mood, don't ruin it," Hawke sighed, taking another swig. "Unless you're going to admit that you and Bull are officially a 'thing', I don't want to hear about it." 

Dorian frowned. "Garrett-" 

"Dorian Halward Pavus?" 

There was a rapid knocking at the door and Hawke sighed. Who else would it be? Everyone who was invited was already here. He set down his bottle and walked over to one of the windows, taking a peak from the curtain. His heart plummeted into his stomach when he saw the familiar press vans parked out front, and swarms of people with cameras clambering around his yard like rapid spider monkeys. Dorian looked over his shoulder, wincing when he too saw the horror without. 

"I'll deal with them," the pitcher says finally, standing up and adjusting the collar of his shirt. "I'm the pretty one of the two of us, anyways." 

"Thank you," Hawke smiled, pulling away from the window. "You're the best." 

"Yes, yes, I know," he huffed, bracing himself as he carefully made his way out the front door and into the stampede.

Hawke couldn't help but watch from the window for a few minutes, just to get a good laugh out of his friend's obvious misery. He heard he patio door open and shut again. He turned to look and see who it was, but whomever had come in had left just as quickly. He barely got a glimpse. 

The rest of the night dragged on with Hawke sitting at the pool side, telling stories as he got himself as drunk as he could manage. By the time the crowds were gone, Hawke was completely alone. Carver had gone with Merrill, he said there were too many memories in the house. Luckily, though, Hawke didn't really _have_ anywhere else to go. Marvelous. 

He laid on the couch presently, staring up at the ceiling with an empty bottle swaying gently between his fingers. Buddy was at his feet, sound asleep, without a care in the world. Hawke wished he could be as happy as that dog, as blissfully ignorant to the evils of the world. 

He reached over for his phone, tapping and looking eagerly at the lock screen to discover an empty reflection. Just the time, 1:15 AM. Once, that picture used to be Fenris's face. What was he expecting to see there? A text? A missed call notification? The elf hadn't said one word to Hawke the entire day, he was practically a ghost.

What if he'd only come because Dorian forced him to? What if he'd forgot? Did he even think about Hawke anymore? I mean... he sent Hawke that food but did that mean anything, really? 

His eyes drifted to the pile of movies in front of the television, "Hard In Hightown" was at the very top and he wanted to vomit. But, he wasn't sure if that was because of the movie or because of the alcohol. 

He couldn't stop thinking about it now, the way Fenris felt in his arms and he way his hair smelled. The way Fenris laughed when Hawke made another dumb joke, as he most of the time did, and the way Fenris's eyes lit up with pride when Hawke talked about the next big game. Fuck, he missed that man so much. What he wouldn't give to have him back, to have him here right now. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he's grabbed his phone again and pulled up that forbidden number that he'd been too scared to delete from his phone. Ringing, ringing... and then click. His heart stopped, waiting to hear that voice again but it was just the prerecorded message taking him to the voicemail. Normally he would hung up, but he was anticipating himself for that beep. 

"Hey, Fenris... I uh," he licked his lips, feeling his cheeks begin to tingle as water rose in the corners of his eyes. "I know it was a given that I wasn't supposed to call you or whatever but, I-... Fenris, I need you. I... I know it sounds dumb, I might be- be slightly intoxicated but I can't, Fenris. Not without you. I can't... I-" he swallows, his cheeks presently wet with his own tears. It took all the strength he had not to break down sobbing.

"If... if you can... if you want- would you... maybe come over? I... I have no one else to call." He paused again, trying to think about whether or not this was a good time to hang up. "I'm sorry," he concluded, hitting that red button and chucking it back at the carpet. Buddy stirred, but thankfully went back to snoring. 

He didn't know when he fell asleep, or how long he was asleep for, when the blaring of the door bell snapped him from unconsciousness. He sat up slowly, wiping his damp cheeks with the back of his hand and stretching. He swore, if this was some other reporter trying to come by late and snag an interview or someshit, he would come unglued.

Instead, he opened the door to see Fenris, a cut on his cheek and a big bag full of sweets and chocolate candies in his arms. He smiled awkwardly, obviously flustered, unsure of himself. "Hello, I... got your message. Can I come inside?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter coming very very soon!!! please leave a comment if you liked, these boys obviously very desperately need your support. thank you !! ;7;


	11. Can't Let Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY VERY short chapter, but better on it's own than with the previous. enjoy!!!
> 
> EDIT: I had more than this for the story, but with my senior year of school and my other priotiries, I wasn’t able to make time to finish the other half of this. So, for now, it’s completed. Though I may make the part 2 whenever I have time. Thanks so much for reading! Your comments and feedback mean the world to me.

 

_"All the beauty that's been lost before wants to find us again."_

— U2 

 

"F-Fenris," he stammered, hardly able to believe his eyes. This was... this was real. This wasn't a dream. Fenris was really here. He really came. "Yeah, come in." He barely managed the words, stepping back to allow the other man entry. He stared after him as he set the bag on the coffee table, and Hawke slowly followed, taking his place back on the couch. 

"I'm so sorry," he mummbled, hardly able to look up. Fenris looked like he'd just gotten out of bed, and that only made him feel even more guilty than he already did. "I'm sorry for waking you, for that voice mail, for everything. I-" 

He felt a warm pair of hands cup his cheeks gently, angling his face upward as the beautiful man's chiselled features filled his sight and soon warm lips collided with his own. Hawke was immediately lost in it, clumsy hands reaching up to grip Fenris's shoulders or run his fingers through his soft, silken hair. Maker, he tasted so good. Had he always tasted this good? How could he forget something this amazing in such a short time?

Eventually, to Hawke's dismay, Fenris pulled away with a smirk, slowly settling into the empty space beside Hawke on the couch. "Don't apologize," he said. "If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I was the one acting ridiculous, being a coward."

"Can I... have some?" he interrupted, looking longingly toward the bag of chocolate.

Fenris laughed. Oh God, he missed that laugh. "Yes, I got it for you."

Hawke happily snatched it up, tearing the wrapping off and stuffing his face contently. He didn't care what Coach Cullen would say about this. Coach Cullen could suck his dick. "But... anyways, how are you a coward? I was the one who took things too far." 

"No, I initiated it," Fenris replied shortly. "and I wasn't expecting to feel... what I felt that night. I was afraid, unsure, and stupid. If I could go back to that night, Hawke, I never would have left." 

Hawke paused for a moment, blinking up at the other man in awe. "R... really?" 

"Yes, really," he huffed, though a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. "When I got your message, I practically tore the house apart to find the keys for the truck and come here. I couldn't just keep hiding." 

"Hiding?" Hawke frowned, looking sadly back down at the chocolate in his palm. 

"Hawke," Fenris snagged his chin between two fingers once more, forcing their eyes to meet. "I... I would like to try this again. Us. I don't care that you won't be home most of the time, I don't care that dating you might be dangerous for me, I don't care about any of that. I just... want you," he sighed, clearly wanting to break the eye contact but hesitating. "If you'll have me." 

Hawke snatched the elf back up in his arms again then, pulling him into a passionate, probably messy kiss and clutching him with all the strength he had so that he could never, ever leave again. "Yes, yes, fuck yes," Hawke sighed, pulling away from the kiss to bury his face in Fenris's shoulder. "As if I could possibly say no." 

Fenris laughed again and returned the embrace, letting his cheek rest on top of the bigger man's head. "Also, for what it's worth, I'm sorry about Bethany, and I'm sorry for being late," he murmured, letting his fingers trail along the wrinkles in Hawke's shirt. "It wasn't planned, and it's not a very pleasant story, either." 

"Don't tell me, not now, please," Hawke huffed, voice muffled by Fenris's shirt. "And I don't want to talk about Beth. Just... please just hold me." 

Fenris hummed, the rumble making Hawke's heart pound feverishly in his chest. He placed a kiss on Hawke's forehead, pushing back some damp strands of hair. "Alright," he replied finally, his tone distant with thought. "Should we go to your bed?" 

Hawke pulled away at that, blinking up at the other man in shock. "You've never seen my bed-" 

"Well, if I'm staying here, I assumed it would be me comfortable than the couch." 

"Right, yeah, that's a good idea," he tried to stand up, but nearly collapsed onto the coffee table before Fenris caught him. He laughed, trying to pull an apologetic smile. "I uh.. may need help getting there." 

"Perhaps," Fenris was clearly hiding his own smile as he took the bigger man over his shoulders, guiding him out of the living room. "You're such a mess." 

"Your mess," Hawke corrected with a proud grin. 

"Luckily," Fen concluded, stealing another kiss on the cheek. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again please leave a comment if you liked!! i live for your support and it's all that keeps me writing. thank you! c:


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